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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23496733">Social Distancing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willsblackstag/pseuds/Willsblackstag'>Willsblackstag</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV), Real Person Fiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Angst, Baby Boy Hannibal Lecter, Blow Jobs with Dildos, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Burglary, COVID-19, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Cocaine, Coffee, Coming twice, Cop and mobster roleplay, Coronavirus, Daddy Kink, Daddy Will Graham, Defensive Heterosexual Will Graham, Dirty Talk, Dominant Will Graham, Drug Use, Drunk Will Graham, Eavesdropping, Edging, Embarrassed Will Graham, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Fleshlights, Fucking with Dildos, Grooming, Hands Free Ejaculation, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is Not a Cannibal, Hannibal gets pegged, Hannibal is a cam-boy, Hannibal is a delivery guy, Hannibal is a model on a sex toy website, Hannibal is a pornstar, Hannibal is ill, Hannibal roleplays as a Russian mobster, Hannibal wears tracksuits, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Injury, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Pandemic - Freeform, Peaking, Power Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Power Trip Will Graham, Premature Ejaculation, Prostate Massage, Quarantine, Rude Will Graham, Sassy Will Graham, Self-Isolation, Sex in a sports car, Sex in the woods, Sexual Confusion, Skull Fucking, Taunting, Teasing, Threats, Top Will Graham, Virus, Voyeurism, Will Graham Cooks, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham Misses Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter films a porno, Will Graham has a big dick, Will Graham has feels, Will Graham is a dick, Will Graham is a jealous daddy, Will Graham is a player, Will Graham looks after Hannibal, Will Graham roleplays as a cop, Will Graham smokes cigarettes, Will Graham smokes marijuana, Will Graham watches porn, cum facial, exercise, lock down, netflix, social distancing, workplace fantasy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:07:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23496733</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willsblackstag/pseuds/Willsblackstag</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is Inspired by:<br/>1) The current lock down/social distancing situation in the wake of Covid-19. I apologise if this offends anybody out there and wish you all to stay safe. It's just the situation I chose to base this story on. No harm is meant.<br/>2) Hugh Dancy's haircut in Homeland<br/>3) Mads Mikkelsen's red tracksuit<br/></p>
<p>
  
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hugh Dancy &amp; Mads Mikkelsen, Hugh Dancy/Mads Mikkelsen, Will Graham &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Margot Verger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>184</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>194</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Love Lecter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Will Graham is not impressed. The lock down has put everything on hold. His work. His social life. His hook-ups.</p><p>“It’s probably just a hangover,” he murmurs into the phone whilst lying on his back upon the king size bed. The voice on the other end begins to protest.</p><p>“Well did you go to Bishop’s house party?” he exhales, already bored by the conversation. He was hoping for some phone sex if she wasn’t going to come over. Sympathy calls are for those who care.</p><p>“If you couldn’t keep your legs closed long enough to consider the prospect of him having corona, it’s really quite hard for me to feel sorry for the fact that he coughed in your face,” he says with a lofting of his brows. The voice tells him to do one, calls him something derogatory, and hangs up.</p><p>Hand dropping to the bed, he stares through half drawn eyes at the ceiling. Starts to masturbate when the doorbell goes.</p><p>“Fuck,” he utters, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. Who could it be at two in the afternoon? Surely not Hutton calling in person to tell him the business is going to hell. Like he needs to see that anxious mug to confirm what he already knows. The man has a certain disregard for social etiquette, Will recalls. He wouldn’t be surprised if the concept of social distancing is lost on the guy.</p><p>Tugging on some underwear and a robe, Will makes his way through the spacious apartment and stops at the front door to look through the peephole. Nobody. Opening the door, he finds a large box sitting on the floor. A movement in his peripheral vision makes him look down the corridor to see the back of some guy wearing a red tracksuit.</p><p>“Hey,” he hollers, and the figure stops and looks back at him. “What’s this?” he asks. The man turns to regard him woodenly.</p><p>“Your package,” he answers.</p><p>“I can see it’s a package,” says Will impatiently. “What’s it doing on my doorstep?”</p><p>“You ordered it,” says the man.</p><p>“If that was the case, do you think I’d be stood here, asking what the hell it is?” Will snaps.</p><p>The man doesn’t say anything for a moment. Will lofts his brows and holds his hands up in a gesture of impatience. <em>Europeans</em>.</p><p>“You didn’t order it,” states the man.</p><p>“I’m glad we’ve established that, yes,” says Will, folding his arms. The man starts to come down the corridor. He stops two metres away. Pulls out his phone. Will exhales impatiently as he waits for the other to check his app.</p><p>“Mr W Graham,” he reads. “One Oculus Quest all in one VR headset, 128GB.”</p><p>Hooded eyes look up at him and for a moment, Will maintains his frown until the memory of an impulse shopping spree resurfaces. Clearing his throat, he shifts on the spot.</p><p>“Turns out I did order it,” he admits, unfolding his arms to put his hands on his hips. “If it actually came on time, I wouldn’t have-”</p><p>“The product has only just come back in stock,” interrupts the man. “You should have received an email.”</p><p>“Right,” says Will, nodding. It is one of his pet peeves, being interrupted. Back at the company, everyone knows not to interrupt him. Even the interns. Being corrected, however, is his biggest pet peeve. Unperturbed by Will’s stare, the man tucks his phone into the pocket of his jacket and starts to walk away.</p><p>“Hey, I didn’t catch your name,” Will calls threateningly after him, but the guy doesn’t stop. Nor does he say anything. “Hey!”</p><p>Watching him disappear round the corner, Will utters something derogatory and picks up the box before going back inside.</p><p>++++</p><p>As the lock down continues, Will grows increasingly restless. They’re technically not supposed to go out, but he needs to exercise and absorb some vitamin D before returning to the confines of his apartment. By the time he’s done his lap around the neighbourhood and returned to the complex, he sees her car in the car park and hurries on up with a little spring of anticipation to his steps.</p><p>Whistling, he starts to come down the corridor when he sees the delivery guy again. Dressed in the same red tracksuit, he is approaching Will’s room with a box in his arms. Margot is already stood at the door. When she sees Will, she smiles that sexy smile and he walks a little faster towards them.</p><p>The man looks his way as he nears, as though to remind Will of the importance of social distancing.</p><p>“Hey,” says Margot.</p><p>“Hey,” says Will, looking past the guy who, following the rules down to a T, is stood between and away from them at a distance of two metres in either direction.</p><p>“I’ll take that,” says Will, about to take a step towards the man when he bends over to put the box down. “Or just leave it there,” he says sarcastically. Straightening up, the man looks at Will expressionlessly with his dark eyes and he realises he is in the way. Lips pressing together, he steps back against the wall as the man, also keeping his distance, steps past him and carries on down the corridor.   </p><p>++++</p><p>A few days later, Will wakes up one morning feeling like death and desperately needing to go. Covered in sweat, he tries to sit up but finds he doesn’t have the strength to. He barely has the energy to pick up the phone let alone drag himself to the bathroom for a piss. When the doorbell goes, he continues to lie there on his back, unwilling to move.</p><p>++++</p><p>He leaves the box at the door and makes his way back down the corridor. Having reached the end with no sound of a door opening, however, he stops and looks over his shoulder.</p><p>++++</p><p>The doorbell goes again. Murmuring wearily, Will drags himself onto his side. Rests. Then drags himself out of bed. He ought to cover up, but it’s so hot, he doesn’t bother as he shuffles his way to the door. Leans against it as he looks through the peephole.</p><p>++++</p><p>“Yes?” says the man through the door. He doesn’t sound well.</p><p>“You have a delivery,” says Hannibal.</p><p>Pause.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Another pause. He is about to turn away when the voice pipes up again.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>He faces the door again. Leans closer to hear him better.</p><p>“You there?” the man utters.</p><p>“Yes,” answers Hannibal.</p><p>“Could you do me a favour?”</p><p>Pause.</p><p>“Could you get me some ibuprofen? I’ve ran out.”</p><p>++++</p><p>At the pause, Will closes his eyes and opens them again. <em>Christ, I’m too tired to even roll my eyes.</em></p><p>“Please?” he adds. “There’s a supermarket just down the road.”</p><p>When he doesn’t get a response, he closes his eyes again.</p><p>“I’ll pay you extra,” he says.</p><p>“Do you have any underlying health conditions?” says the accented voice.</p><p>“What?” Will utters, brow knitting. “No. Should be okay though, right?”</p><p>No response. He looks through the peephole. The man has gone.</p><p>++++</p><p>He is just coming out of the bathroom when the doorbell goes and he drags himself back to the door. When he looks through the peephole, there is nobody there. Slowly, he opens the door to find a plastic bag. Looks down the corridor to see the back of the delivery guy.</p><p>“Hey,” he calls, voice quite diminished, but enough to make the other stop and look over his shoulder. “How much do I owe you?”</p><p>Without replying, the man looks him over briefly before facing the front and carrying on his way.</p><p>“H-ah forget it,” Will mutters tiredly as he stoops to get the bag. “Fuck, that’s heavy,” he says, lowering it back down to look inside. As well as packets of paracetamol, he finds multiple tins of chicken soup. And a bag of easy peel oranges.</p><p>++++</p><p>The following week, Will is back to his usual self, more or less. Sat at the computer, he is busy sending and replying emails. Hutton’s voice can be heard through the loudspeaker on his phone.</p><p>“So you don’t think it was corona?” the man asks.</p><p>“No,” answers Will as he types.</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>“Technically I don’t, but I didn’t develop any breathing problems,” says Will. “Neither did Margot.”</p><p>Hutton makes a disapproving noise.</p><p>“What,” says Will.</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>“Say it.”</p><p>“You do know Miss Verger is not complying with government advice.”</p><p>“A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.”</p><p>“Can’t you just watch porn like the rest of us.”</p><p>“What makes you think I’m not?”</p><p>The sound of scoffing travels through the speaker.</p><p>“It’s a good job I have a delivery of box tissue on its way.”</p><p>“Too much information.”</p><p>“My thoughts exactly. So unless you have something good to say about the company’s trajectory, I’d rather you didn’t call to moan at me about my personal life.”</p><p>“I wasn’t-”</p><p>“It’s not the kind of moaning I’m interested in. Now take a look at what I’ve just forwarded you and get back to me when you have a plan.”</p><p>Ending the call, Will sits back in his desk chair with an exhale. His eyes fall on the easy peel orange sitting by the mouse.</p><p>++++</p><p>When the doorbell goes, Will opens the door without looking in the peephole. The greeting is already out of his mouth by the time he realises the person walking away is not the same guy. Is not even a guy, even.</p><p>“Hey,” he calls after them, and the girl looks back at him without stopping. She seems in a hurry.</p><p>“What?” she shouts back.</p><p>“What happened to the other guy?”</p><p>The girl stops at the end of the corridor.</p><p>“What other guy?”</p><p>“The guy in the red tracksuit.”</p><p>“Laid off,” she shouts before disappearing round the corner.</p><p>
  <em>Laid off?</em>
</p><p>“What’s his name?” he shouts, but there is no answer.</p><p>++++</p><p>The days go by and nothing changes except the prospects of the company. Instead of dwelling on the downwards trajectory, however, Will goes out for a run. It is almost April and the weather is full of sunshine and slowly returning warmth. As he makes his way through the park, he finds himself mistaking people in tracksuits for the delivery guy. At one point, having stopped to take a break and catch his breath, he thought he saw him across the road and was about to shout out to him when the man lifted his face and Will realised his mistake. By the time he makes his way back to the complex, he has stopped turning his head at people in tracksuits and is just removing the buds from his ears when he looks up and sees him.</p><p>++++</p><p>Hannibal saw the man coming and, despite the need for social distancing, held the door open for him. When those blue eyes look up, they widen in surprise.</p><p>“Hey,” says the man as though glad to see him. He stops two metres away from the door and stands there with his hands on his hips. Chest still heaving gently from his run.</p><p>“You’re back,” he says brightly. “Working, I mean.”</p><p>When Hannibal doesn’t immediately comment, the man folds his arms and tilts his head.</p><p>“Your colleague said you got laid off,” he continues to say.</p><p>Hannibal is about to respond when someone approaches their way. The man steps back, as does Hannibal, still holding the door open, and the woman utters her thanks as she hurriedly enters the complex.</p><p>“Is that for me?”</p><p>At the sound of his voice, Hannibal brings his face back round to regard the other.</p><p>“Your neighbour,” he answers, glancing down at the box held under his arm.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>A pause before the man indicates he wishes to come inside, and Hannibal waits until he has come through before letting go of the door.</p><p>“What do I owe you for the meds, by the way?”</p><p>Walking ahead of him, the man looks back smilingly over his shoulder.</p><p>“Nothing,” says Hannibal.</p><p>++++</p><p>“So you’re working for a different company now?” Will asks.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Will looks back at the other as he continues to walk down the corridor. The man watches him for a moment before looking ahead.</p><p>“Family business,” he adds.</p><p>“What in?” says Will.</p><p>“Custom made-”</p><p>“Oh my god!”</p><p>The happy exclamation makes Will look down the corridor to see his hot Russian neighbour leaning out of her door in a black negligee.</p><p>“Perfect timing!” she giggles excitedly before giving Will a wink and adding coyly, “Hey, Mr Graham.”</p><p>“Hey, Natalia,” returns Will with a lopsided smile.</p><p>“You two know each other?” she says amusedly.</p><p>“No,” the man answers for them and Will steps back to let the guy past.</p><p>“He helped me out when I was in a bit of trouble,” Will explains, watching the girl gesture for the other to come closer with the box.</p><p>“Oh he’s good like that,” says the girl as she leans further out of the doorway. “It’s okay, I trust you don’t have corona,” she giggles again, winking at the man and gesturing impatiently for him to come closer still with her package. When the box is finally in her  hands, she purrs something in Russian, and, saying bye to Will, disappears back into her apartment.</p><p>“So…that family business,” Will utters lowly, lofting his brows at his neighbour’s door. “What did you say it was in?”</p><p>“It’s not what you think.”</p><p>Eyes scaling that red tracksuit, Will stops at that impassive expression. Sees the man watching him from the corners of his eyes.</p><p>“What am I thinking?” Will asks with a tug at the corner of his lips.</p><p>“I don’t deal drugs,” says the man, turning to walk past him.</p><p>“I didn’t say anything about drugs,” says Will innocently, watching the guy. “And you haven’t answered the question.”</p><p>“Sex toys.”</p><p>Stood there with his hands in his short pockets, Will blinks at the back of the other’s head as the guy walks away.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>A pause as he watches the back of that red tracksuit. Then:</p><p>“Are you online?” he shouts after him.</p><p>“Love Lecter,” the man shouts back, his accent making Will squint.</p><p>“Love <em>what</em>?” he shouts, but the other has already turned the corner.</p><p>++++</p><p>He had intended to go on the website which, as it turns out, is actually called Love Lecter and not Love <em>Nectar</em> as he’d originally thought – to see if he could find the guy’s contact details so he can thank him for his help. And maybe to satisfy just a small curiosity. Instead, he finds himself trawling through photos of products. Alternating between a frown of confusion and brows lofting in surprise as he clicks on images of the delivery guy posing with female models. In the men’s section, he sees more photos of him – or at least, Will thinks it’s him, with those wrist and back scars from the previous images – on his knees or on his back, demonstrating various bondage gear while his face remains obscured by a black eye mask. Sitting at his desk, Will clicks back to the photos of the smoking hot blonde posing with the same equipment. Takes in the perky swell of her breasts, her itty bitty waist and tempting thighs. Head tilting, he glances aside as he hesitates before clicking. Slowly, he brings his eyes back to the image on the screen. Of him lying on his back, looking up at a brunette. Wearing nothing but a pair of tiny ass shorts. His phone suddenly rings, making him jump with a curse as he jerks down the lid of the laptop. Getting up, his hardon brushes against the underside of the desk, but he ignores it.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Lumberjack Butt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Having read over the website’s promise of privacy to their customers, Will orders an Alana fleshlight. Why not. When the doorbell goes, he looks through the peephole and is greeted by the unexpected sight of the man stood leaning back against the opposite wall. Running a hand through his hair, he clears his throat before opening the door.</p><p>++++</p><p>The door opens and the man’s brows loft as though he is surprised to see him.</p><p>“Hey,” he says in greeting, and Hannibal nods in return.</p><p>“Are you going to tell me you’ve ran out and had to give me an alternative?” the man jokes as he bends down to pick up the box. He seems curious that he’s still in the corridor despite having made the delivery.</p><p>“I guess lock down is keeping you guys in business, huh,” he says, straightening up with the box between his hands.</p><p>“They’ve made some redundancies,” says Hannibal, meeting that blue gaze for a moment before turning his face to look down the corridor. “This is the last time I’m delivering.”</p><p>“How come?”</p><p>He watches the man from the corners of his eyes.</p><p>“Family issues,” he answers, looking away again.</p><p>“Huh.”</p><p>There is a pause as he continues to lean against the wall with his hands in his jacket pockets. He should be heading off, but he doesn’t have any other deliveries.</p><p>“What are you going to do?” asks the man.</p><p>“Not sure yet,” he answers, pushing off the wall. Looks him in the eye. “Take care, Mr Graham.”</p><p>The furrow between those dark brows deepen before he says, “Thanks, you too.”</p><p>++++</p><p>Closing the door behind him, Will puts the box down on the coffee table and watches it for a moment with his hands on his hips. <em>This is the last time I’m delivering</em>. He walks into the kitchen and opens a drawer. <em>Take care, Mr Graham</em>. Taking out the scissors, he returns to the coffee table and, lowering onto his knees, opens the box. Pulling back the flaps, he pushes aside the air pillows and picks up the box. Knits his brow as he reads <em>Colby Keller Lumberjack Butt</em> and looks at the smiling picture of the gay porn star posing in his underwear.</p><p>Taking to his desk, he opens his laptop. Goes on the website and clicks on the <em>contact us</em> tab. An icon for live help pops up and he clicks that to get an instant response:</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Hi, my name is Mischa. How can I help you?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>He puts his hands on the keyboard.</p><p>
  <strong>Hi. I’ve had the wrong product delivered?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>May I have your order number, please?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Dragging his mouse to the user icon, he quickly pulls up his recent order. Copies the number and pastes it into the help window. A moment as it is being checked. Then:</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>We are very sorry for our mistake and would like to offer you an exchange or refund. Which would you prefer?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Refund, please.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Your refund shall be issued shortly. Please send the wrong product back to us using the address on the website. Thank you. Is there anything else I can help you with today?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Will does not hesitate to type:</p><p>
  <strong>I would like to leave positive feedback for an employee.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>What is the employee’s name, please?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I don’t know, but he delivers for you. </strong>
</p><p>He thinks for a moment before adding:</p><p>
  <strong>He wears a red tracksuit. </strong>
</p><p>There is a brief pause, then:</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Thank you for the feedback. We will let Hannibal know. Is there anything else I can help you with today?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>A smile lifts his lips as he types:</p><p>
  <strong>No, thank you.</strong>
</p><p>Opening a new tab, he types Hannibal Lecter into the search bar and clicks search. It instantly pulls up video clips from a bunch of porn websites. Brows lofting, he scrolls down and clicks on a link to one of the sites he often uses himself. There are previews of the guy having sex with women as well as one video of him being pegged by a petite blonde. He is about to click on it when his phone goes off and he looks down to see Hutton’s name on the screen. Tapping on it, he brings up the text reminding him about a conference call, and minimises the website before texting his reply.</p><p>++++</p><p>Nothing positive came out of the call. If anything, it just put him in a bad mood by giving others the opportunity to question his decisions. He did let off some steam in a phone call to Hutton afterwards, and the man was sympathetic to his plight, but annoyingly continued to stress the fact that their hands are tied and that they will eventually have to face the inevitable. By the time he’s sitting back down at his desk following a loo break, he’s ready for some cheering up.    </p><p>Pulling back up the porn site, he plays the video of the delivery guy – or rather, <em>Hannibal</em> – being pegged. He’s even wearing the same damn tracksuit as the roleplay begins of him delivering a box to a girl’s house and her inviting him inside after some corny package puns have been passed back and forth. Eventually, when the guy has spent some time having his dick – which is a respectable size, Will idly notes – sucked by the girl, he is told to put on an eye mask, which he does. The girl gives the camera a knowing smirk before slipping out of sight. The focus returns to Hannibal lying back on the white leather settee, his hands clasped patiently over his stomach as his cock juts up against it.</p><p>When the girl returns, she is wearing a black strap on harness brandishing a monstrously large dildo. Will curses under his breath at the size of the thing as he continues to watch. She instructs Hannibal to roll over, which he does, and the camera zooms in on his ass as she kneels down to grasp a cheek each with her dainty hands. Digging her manicured talons into the plush globes, she pulls them forcefully apart, giving the cameraman a clear view of his arsehole. The natural lighting is so bright, Will can see every individual baby hair. But it is the sight of that pink pucker that makes him swallow convulsively. The girl dips her head and opens her mouth. Her tongue curls out past her red lips, pink and pointed, before stroking teasingly around the man’s entrance. With her other hand, she grabs his dick and taps it repeatedly against the upholstery to emphasise his arousal as she murmurs obscenities in between the rimming.</p><p>Hand having moved on its own accord to the bulge in his lounge pants, Will slips it beneath the waistband as he watches her spread Hannibal open with both hands once more and proceed to fuck him with her tongue. While she moans pleasurably against his skin, the man himself remains silent as her head darts back and forth. Even when he’s told to roll over and obligingly pins his own legs back so the girl can begin to push the massive head of the dildo into him does he merely continue to breathe. It’s only when Will turns up the volume does he catch the quiet <em>mn</em> once that head has finally managed to breach him.</p><p>“Fuck,” Will grunts as the blonde slowly fucks Hannibal open, the camera zooming in on his dick as it trembles with each thrust under her steady rhythm, the ring of his arsehole being stretched to the max as she pushes to the hilt. The open pucker glistens obscenely under the glide of the dildo, suggesting the man had lubed up beforehand. Still, Will can hardly believe Hannibal is able to take such a beast of a cock, his disbelief no doubt playing a part in spurring his hand inside his pants.     </p><p>Eventually, the cameraman – or Hannibal – wants more, and they change position so he’s facing the camera while riding the girl into the settee, his arms keeping him from crushing her with the force of his thrusts down onto the girthy plastic. His dick bobbing up and down as he pants through parted lips. The eye mask having slipped off, his lidded gaze now watches the viewer through the fallen spikes of his hair. As her hand snakes around him into view, her claws snatching his cock, Will frees his own from the confines of his pants and hurriedly beats himself off to the same pace as the girl. He watches as hooded eyes snap shut as those thin lips press together. That agile body sinking down once more to the hilt before Hannibal finally explodes – as does Will. His cry, abrupt and loud, rips through the silence of his apartment.</p><p>Slumped in his desk chair, catching his breath, Will looks down his body and presses a clean hand over his eyes with a groan. The expensive shirt and tie that he’d put on for the conference call is covered in ejaculate. Dragging his hand down his face, he sighs and drops it back on the keyboard. Scrolls idly down the page and stops when he sees the comment:</p><p>
  <strong>Want to see more? ;) [link] </strong>
</p><p>And the one below, posted just yesterday:</p><p>
  <strong>Hanni is back! There is a God! [link]</strong>
</p><p>After a pause, he gets up and moves to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up, taking off his soiled tie and shirt and pulling on his silk designer robe. Running a hand through his hair, he glances at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. Raises an eyebrow. <em>What?</em> Then strolls back to his office. Checking he hadn’t missed a spot on the desk chair, he plonks back down and leans over to pull open the bottom drawer. Fishing out the small plastic wallet, he straightens up and opens the seal before taking out one of the joints. Putting the rest away, he opens the top drawer and grabs the lighter before pushing it to a close. Crossing his legs, he sticks the cigarette between his lips before lighting up. Tosses the lighter on the desk before taking a deep drag and, holding his breath, leans back to exhale a great flurry of cannabis smoke into the air. Through lidded eyes, he watches the comment through the haze. <em>Hanni is back! There is a God! [link] </em>Stares at the link as he draws again from the spliff. Replays the moment he’d opened the door to see the man leaning against the corridor wall. All casual like with his hands in his jacket pockets.</p><p>“Colby fucking Keller,” he scoffs in disbelief at the thought of the male fleshlight. <em>I’m no fag</em>. He blows out another stream, eyes narrowing. <em>Bet he fucked up the order on purpose</em>… Fixating on the link, he lifts his hand to itch at his eyebrow with his thumb before lowering it once more to his mouth. Leaving the joint dangling between his lips, he rests his hand on the keyboard. Puts his middle finger on the touchpad.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck it. </em>
</p><p>And clicks on the link.</p><p>++++</p><p>He hadn’t intended to return to this. Still, he can do with the money just now, and this line of work remains largely unaffected by the lock down measures, after all. Vladimir had been happy enough to resume transactions, and to allow him to go live from his own room instead of going in to the studio. Turns out Lana, one of the girls who have been working for Vladimir for a while now, had turned up the other day without realising she had caught the virus, and before they knew it, one of the tech guys had developed symptoms.</p><p>He cleared up the old spot in his bedroom before a couple of the guys came to fit the large computer screen, camera and photographer’s lights. They watched him sign the agreement and then left him to it.  </p><p>“Sorry, can you say that again, please?”</p><p>Now, lying back on his elbows in his boxer shorts, he is trying his best to keep up with the myriad of voices and requests. It is nice to feel wanted, especially after the fallout with his family. He doesn’t blame Mischa. She had been put in a difficult position by the others. There are no hard feelings between them, and she would have understood his decision to quit as a move to spare her any further hassle.</p><p>“It’s nice to be back too,” he answers a voice, and lowers his eyes demurely as he smiles. He has learnt that females like it when he comes across modest and shy under their gazes. It must be empowering for them, he supposes, watching a man who looks like a Russian gangster blush. And he does have the scars to fit the role. But, everything aside, he won’t make any money until a member asks to go private. This means he has to use his instincts to locate the voices that give out the strongest vibes of a paying customer, and focus more on them.</p><p>++++</p><p>He watches the man smile shyly as he answers everyone else’s questions, his hand moving occasionally to push those spikes back from his dark gaze, but they just keep sweeping back down over his hooded eyes. Sat in a haze of marijuana smoke, Will lets his eyes travel over the guy’s body. Broad shoulders. Not particularly built. Long, slender legs. The same that were pinned against his chest hair in the pegging porno. All the voices in the room are female, he notes. Asking questions that range from innocent to flirtatious. I could do this, he thinks to himself as he listens to Hannibal answer politely in his accented voice. Drawing on the last of the joint, Will holds his breath and looks at the button one hits to make everyone else disappear, leaving you alone with the man in a one-to-one webcam session. Exhaling slowly, he strokes his middle finger over the touchpad. Lifts it and lets it hover as he watches those hooded eyes look up like he can see him. Snatching his hand away, Will leans back in the chair, brow knitting as he rests his head against a hand, finger moving to stroke pensively along his bottom lip.</p><p>“Can we talk alone?” a voice finally asks, and those thin lips lift in a smile.</p><p>“Of course,” he says softly.</p><p>The live stream transitions to a message alerting all members in the session to the fact that Hannibal has now gone private.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Daddy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter intended to be read to The Hills by The Weeknd. A lyric only version can be found: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=M75t7_ANB2c</p><p>It’s the vibe I was going for : )</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Will spends the entirety of the following day psyching himself up to ask <em>the</em> question. After the conference call, there was nothing immediate he could do for the business, so he decided to invest his time in distractions to take his mind off impending problems. In the morning, he went for a run. Came back. Showered. Played with the VR headset. Made some food. Ate. Watched some porn. Wanked. Nodded off. Woke up with a hardon, so wanked again. Then Margot rang not long after, keen for some phone sex, and he went along with it to get her off even though he couldn’t get it up – figured he was just spent. After that, he put a movie on but kept looking at his phone and counting down the time for when the live session with Hannibal would begin.</p><p>Now, having joined the session, he wonders how long he should wait until he interrupts the familiar multitude of voices to speak to the guy, and also whether he would recognise his voice. The latter query had probably driven him to start his smoking early tonight, but he knows that even if Hannibal does think his voice sounds familiar, there is no way to prove it is actually him. All the man has is his membership number. Sucking long and hard on the last of the joint, he holds his breath as he watches the other lying back on his elbows again. Clad in grey boxer shorts this time. Exhaling a stream of smoke, he moves his finger on the touchpad. Taps once to unmute himself.</p><p>“Sorry, ladies, I’m going to have to steal him off you,” he states, the sound of his voice, cocksure and abrupt, creating a momentary pause in the session. He sees Hannibal tilting his head, listening. His hooded eyes lifting curiously to a corner of the room.</p><p>“Are you?” he says.</p><p>“Yes,” says Will, matter-of-fact, and he clicks on the option to go private. His heart pounding in his chest.</p><p>The room falls silent. All voices gone except theirs. Will wishes he had lit another cigarette for this as he sits up a bit more in the desk chair. Stops fidgeting with the lighter and puts it down on the desk before clasping his hands over his stomach. Hannibal runs a hand through his hair as he continues to lean back on his elbows.</p><p>“Now that you have stolen me,” he says, looking into the camera, “how would you like to be addressed?”</p><p>Will parts his lips but the other continues to casually list: “Mister? Sir? Daddy?”</p><p>“Daddy?” he scoffs in disbelief. <em>The fuck</em>.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Licking his lips, Will exhales laughingly.</p><p>“I mean,” he begins to correct the other’s misunderstanding.</p><p>“Has daddy been thinking about me?”</p><p>At the smooth interruption, Will hesitates. The question had sent a jolt through his system.</p><p>“I’ve been thinking about daddy,” the man continues to say in his accented voice when Will does not immediately reply. Distracted as he is by his own burgeoning arousal.</p><p>Continuing to lean back on his elbows, Hannibal moves a hand off the cover to palm himself through his boxers.</p><p>“When you touch me,” he murmurs, eyes downcast.</p><p>The hand starts to rub slowly up and down, the sight of which makes Will twitch below the waist.</p><p>“I think it’s like this,” he says innocently before lifting his dark gaze to the camera, “am I doing it right, daddy?”</p><p>Sitting with his hand clasped over his mouth, Will slowly inhales before lowering it enough to speak.</p><p>“Faster,” he says lowly, and the man follows the command obediently, his long fingers gripping over the shape of him as he strokes himself more hurriedly.</p><p>“Like this?” he asks, watching Will through the spikes falling across his eyes.</p><p>About to reply, Will curses under his breath instead at the sight of Hannibal biting his bottom lip. Running a free hand through his hair, he folds his raised arm behind his head and arches languidly as he continues to rub himself. Watching into the camera all the while through his lowering lashes. “I’m getting wet for you, daddy,” he says, the implied helplessness drawing Will’s gaze from his face to the dark spot at the front of his distended boxer shorts. Swallowing, Will slips his hand down to free his own erection.</p><p>“Show me,” he utters through his teeth and those hooded eyes look down shyly as his stroking hand pauses to grasp the waistband with its twin. Together, they slowly pull it down the other’s hips as he arches against the bed until that part of his anatomy, which Will has seen many a time from rewatching the man’s pornos, twangs free from the garment. Under the bright lighting and quality of the live stream, Will can see the fresh bead of precum gathering at the eye of that flushed head, and rolls his thumb over his own in response.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>. </p><p>“Touch yourself,” says Will after swallowing. Complying, Hannibal watches him as he fists his cock and slowly begins to jerk himself off.</p><p>“Like this…?”</p><p>“Faster,” breathes Will, his own hand quickening.</p><p>“It feels good, daddy,” Hannibal half whispers, chest heaving gently as he lies there on his back, his cheek pressed to the cover as he looks up into the camera. His lips parted to his shallow breaths.</p><p>“Fuck,” Will hisses, pausing to spit into his hand before returning to tug hurriedly at his dick.</p><p>
  <em>Almost there…</em>
</p><p>“Is daddy close?” Hannibal asks breathlessly.</p><p>“Mnph-”</p><p>“Come for me, daddy,” the man half pleads, and Will bites onto his lip to stifle another groan as he feels his shaft thickening against the tight grip of his beating fingers.</p><p>“Fff-”</p><p>Eyes snapping shut, lips parting, he arches suddenly against the chair.</p><p>+++  </p><p>Hannibal stops as he hears the man moan, his eyes drifting to the clock on the screen ahead. Just seconds remaining. Listening to the other trying to catch his breath, he looks down at his dick encircled by his hand. The head still engorged and oozing pre-ejaculate down his fingers.</p><p>“Time’s up,” he says quietly to draw those eyes back to himself before looking up at the camera. “See you next time, daddy.”  </p><p>As the session ends, giving him a moment’s respite, he gets off the bed and walks over to the monitor. Taking some tissues from the desk beside, he cleans himself as he stands there looking at the membership number and the message confirming payment.</p><p>++++</p><p>At first, the man doesn’t immediately rejoin the sessions. Although Hannibal had not specified a gender preference for his clients when resuming work with the studio, the majority of them remained predominantly female. Most of their gay clientele, Vladimir said, wanted smooth young boys. It didn’t matter to Hannibal either way. The role he played with his members suited them and therefore suited him, as long as it continued to be lucrative. Technically, he could continue making money this way until demand dropped off completely.</p><p>Rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, he thinks about the man’s voice. Beneath the roar of the shower spray, he can still hear his arrogant swagger masking his nervousness. He has heard it before, of course, the sound of a self-proclaimed straight man satisfying his sexual curiosities, and thinks perhaps the lock down situation is encouraging people to experiment more. Including him. If he is who Hannibal thinks he is.</p><p>++++</p><p>But a few days later, he is back. Unlike the first time, he doesn’t hesitate as long as before to ask Hannibal to go private, and when they’re alone again, he sounds more confident than before.</p><p>“You didn’t come for me last time,” he says from the get-go, voice low and teasing.</p><p>“Is daddy mad?” Hannibal asks, bottom lip jutting ever so slightly. Once more, he is lying back on his elbows. As well as being comfortable, it helps to give the impression he is at his client’s mercy.</p><p>“Very.”</p><p>“Are you going to punish me?”</p><p>He looks up at the camera through his lashes.</p><p>Instead of answering, the man orders him to masturbate. Once more, Hannibal does as he is told.</p><p>“Can I take off my shorts,” he eventually asks.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Okay, daddy.”</p><p>He continues to fondle himself through the underwear until it sticks to him damply.</p><p>“Make yourself come.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Lie down on your side.”</p><p>“Yes, daddy.”</p><p>“Look at me.”</p><p>Hannibal lifts his eyes at the camera, cheek pressing against the cover as he lies on his side with his knees together.</p><p>“Please can I-”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Fast becoming saturated, the fabric both hinders and creates friction as he moves his hand.</p><p>“Are you close,” the voice asks huskily.</p><p>“Almost,” Hannibal breathes.</p><p>“Tell me when you’re going to come.”</p><p>“Okay, daddy.”</p><p>The sound of his shallow breathing fills the room. If he listens carefully, he can hear it mingling with the man’s coming slow and steady through the speaker. Licking his lips, he leaves them hanging agape as he closes his eyes.</p><p>“Daddy, I’m going to come,” he half whispers.</p><p>“Now?”</p><p>“Yes,” he pants softly.</p><p>“Look at me.”</p><p>He opens his eyes into slits.</p><p>“I said look at me.”</p><p>Lifting his gaze to the camera, he feels his brow knotting with his impending climax.</p><p>“Now stop.”</p><p>Swallowing, Hannibal does as he is told, lying there with his hand clutching his erection through his soaked shorts. His chest heaving.</p><p>“Daddy’s mean,” he says breathlessly.</p><p>“You don’t know the half of it.”</p><p>“Please can I take them off?”</p><p>“Ask me that one more time,” says the voice warningly.</p><p>Hannibal licks his lips and lowers his gaze.</p><p>“Sorry, daddy.”</p><p>In the time remaining, the man continues to punish him, deliberately allowing breathing space before commanding Hannibal to bring himself back to the edge. Throbbing cock trapped in the sticky confines of his underwear, he starts to squirm restlessly on his side.</p><p>“Please, daddy…”</p><p>“If you come before I say you can, you will never see daddy again. Is that what you want?”</p><p>The threat escapes the speaker as a low rumble and Hannibal is impressed by the show of self-control.</p><p>“No,” he says lowly in a cowed voice.</p><p>“So be a good boy and do as you’re told.”</p><p>“Okay, daddy.”</p><p>Not long after he has spoken, the session times out, leaving him alone.</p><p>++++</p><p>The next time they connect, Hannibal is secretly out for revenge after he was forced to hurriedly jerk off during his break following their session. He usually has better self-control, preferring to let it go down before returning to the live cam. He begins to see it as something of a challenge, interacting with his new member.</p><p>Once the one to one has started, he rolls onto his stomach upon the bed. Folds his arms and leans his head down upon them.</p><p>“I missed you, daddy,” he starts off by saying.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>He lifts his head, chin resting on his arm.</p><p>“I want to suck daddy’s cock,” he says candidly.</p><p>Looks up upon hearing the quiet intake of breath.</p><p>“You got a dirty mouth,” the voice murmurs.</p><p>“Because daddy’s always in it.”</p><p>A pause, indicating the man is affected by his roleplay. Then:</p><p>“I want you to lie down on your back with your head on the edge so I can fuck that smart mouth of yours.”</p><p>Hannibal rolls over onto his back, a hand moving to toy idly with his chest hair as he tilts his head back to watch the camera.</p><p>“Like this?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Will daddy suck my cock at the same time?”</p><p>“Fuck no.”</p><p>At the derisive scoff, Hannibal frowns, jutting out his bottom lip.</p><p>“You don’t deserve it.”</p><p>“Maybe if I please daddy,” he says brightly.</p><p>++++</p><p>Smiling despite himself, Will shakes his head at the sight of the man watching him upside down, playing cute. <em>Goddamn</em>. Eyes narrowing, he draws deeply from the spliff and holds his breath as he studies that expectant face. Blowing smoke at the screen, Will leans back leisurely.</p><p>“Go on,” he says lowly.</p><p>
  <em>Let’s see what’s up your sleeve.</em>
</p><p>++++</p><p>Having received permission, Hannibal sits up and gets on all fours to reach the top drawer of the bedside table. Pulling it open, he takes out the object he’s looking for and settles back down on his front with it.</p><p>++++</p><p>The joint almost slips from between his lips as Will is greeted by the sight of a dong. And not just your standard dong. But a huge black thing with chunky veins spanning its length and wrapping around its intimidating girth. It looks suspiciously like the one in the pegging porno.</p><p>Swallowing, he pushes the cigarette back between his lips.</p><p>“That going to fit?” he mumbles doubtfully, eyes on the hefty bit of silicone held between Hannibal’s hands. Those fingers stroking idly along the stark network of veins.</p><p>“Daddy fits,” the man answers simply.</p><p>
  <em>That fucking clever mouth.</em>
</p><p>Drawing hard on the joint, Will blows out a forceful flurry of smoke. His hand already clasping his hardening dick.</p><p>“Show me.”</p><p>++++</p><p>Although he has gone private with men in the past, he hasn’t blown a dildo before, or an actual dick for that matter, but he has received enough blow jobs to know how it’s supposed to work. Holding the silicone cast upright, he dips his head and, parting his lips, maps the flat of his tongue to the base of the dildo. Looking up into the camera, he slowly drags his way up the shaft.</p><p>++++</p><p>Oozing enough slick, Will doesn’t need the aid of saliva as his hand glides up and down his dick. He watches Hannibal lapping under the thick ridge of the plastic head before swiping over and over at the crown in tight circles. Staring at Will all the while through his hair until he feels like snatching those fair tresses with both his hands. Pull that face down as he fucks up into that teasing mouth.  </p><p>
  <em>This guy…</em>
</p><p>Exhaling raggedly, he runs a free hand over his face as he continues to tug.</p><p>
  <em>What is he doing to me…</em>
</p><p>++++</p><p>Having stopped conversing since he started, Hannibal takes the other’s silence as a good sign. He imagines those blue eyes staring as he holds the dildo steady at the base and tests his gag reflex. The muffled sounds of him choking is rewarded in turn by the sound of the man’s heavy breathing coming through the speaker. If he is pleasuring himself, Hannibal cannot hear it as he busies himself giving head. His cheeks hollowing as he creates a tight seal around the silicone and proceeds to suck like the girls he’s watched kneeling between his legs during filming. Copying them, he adds a hand to the dildo. Strokes the circle of his fingers up and down the slick length in tandem with his mouth until the room fills with the wet sounds of sucking and slurping.</p><p>“Fuck, I’m going to come,” the man pants suddenly. “Don’t stop,” he adds in a strangled voice.</p><p>Making a muffled noise of obedience, Hannibal rolls over onto his back and lifts his arms the same time he tilts his head back against the edge of the bed. Eyes finding the camera, he starts thrusting the dildo down his throat as saliva wells and trickles down past the corners of his stretched mouth. He chokes as he slams it in too hard, and the next thing he knows, the man’s sudden cry of relief is blasting his ears at high volume. </p><p>++++</p><p>With seconds left, Will breaks character to snicker as the man pulls the dildo from his lips. Rubbed raw by the silicone, they are a fetching shade of red.</p><p>“So you like to suck dick,” he murmurs mockingly, dropping a tissue onto his wilting cock.</p><p>“Not really,” the man answers, rolling back over onto his front and lowering the toy down out of view. His voice, leaving his freshly fucked throat, sounds huskier than before.</p><p>“Seemed to be enjoying yourself,” Will scoffs quietly, face leaning against his hand as he strokes at his bottom lip with his finger while watching the other wipe spit off his jaw. “You rolled over, but I saw your hardon.”</p><p>“Can you prove it?” the man says, quiet and taunting. Lofting his invisible brows as he too leans his face against his hand.</p><p>Before Will can answer, he says, “Time’s up. Bye bye, daddy.”</p><p>Just before the screen transitions, Will catches the wink.</p><p>++++</p><p>The news keeps reporting on the rapid pace at which the virus is spreading, but he has heard this message almost daily, and can’t help but think about something else that is moving quicker than he’d like. It’s not the downwards trajectory of the business, although it goes without saying that it does give him a huge fucking headache and has been the cause of some sleepless nights. But he has also managed to find a respite that goes beyond his normal hook-ups and other methods used to promote a sense of well-being, and, quite frankly, he is surprised at himself for behaving like a teenager again with the way he impatiently wants the day to end and the evening to come just so he can live cam. He’s heard of porn addiction, of course. Hutton even accused him of being an addict, once. But Hutton doesn’t know about his sex camming or his new playmate. His new company in a time of lock down and social distancing, though technically the man had been company of sorts even when he’d travelled back and forth along the corridor outside his apartment, dealing with Will’s shit.</p><p>He still hasn’t thanked the guy properly for helping him that time. But he supposes monetary payment is as good as any. He is, after all, contributing to his livelihood right now. Although, truth be told, it was becoming quite an expensive plight. Still, Will finds he can’t wait longer than a couple of days before he’s itching to click the go private button again. He even saved his load for the next time they meet – virtually, at least – and knows he will have to take it slow or else risk blowing it in seconds.</p><p>
  <em>If the bastard sucks that fucking dildo again, gameover.</em>
</p><p>It’s true. He finds himself thinking about that face, those eyes, and those lips, when he’s out running or streaming a movie. And, needless to say, when he’s in the shower, in bed, or just happen to have a spare moment during which that space in his head can be filled with thoughts of Hannibal. He starts to imagine what his own porno with the man would look like, using the real life premise of a delivery guy and a customer who wants to get in his pants. They would dislike each other at first, arguing over the order which Will claims is wrong and the other insists is correct. He would knock the phone out of Hannibal’s hand as he goes to check his app and shove him against the corridor wall. Would lean in to murmur into his ear, <em>how much to suck my dick?</em></p><p>So fixated on the idea of the guy blowing him, Will is unprepared for the question that greets him first thing during their next session. He has also run out of weed which helps him relax should anything potentially uncomfortable rear its head. And it wouldn’t be worthwhile to end a session prematurely when the promise of payment is confirmed as soon as you choose to go private.</p><p>++++</p><p>“Have you done anal before?” Hannibal asks out of character, lying in his default position on the bed.</p><p>“Sure,” comes the reply. Confident.</p><p>“With a man?” he continues to ask, and there is a brief pause.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Why not?” asks Hannibal.</p><p>“Because I’m not gay,” says the voice as though he is stating the obvious.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“I know you’ve had a dick up your ass.”</p><p>Hannibal tilts his head at the taunting comment.</p><p>“Almost split you in half,” the man continues to say, and it’s tricky to know whether to read the low drawl as one of disgust or arousal. Perhaps a mixture of both.</p><p>“Do you mean the pegging?” Hannibal asks, unperturbed by the vulgarity of his words. It could have been sexy, he supposes, if he hadn’t sensed the edge of defensiveness underlying the other’s sentences.</p><p>“Do you like it,” the voice asks instead of answering, his tone bordering close to sneering.</p><p>“Did you,” Hannibal asks back. Defiant. Lifting his eyes to the camera. “I think so,” he answers for him without giving him a chance to speak.</p><p>“Is that right.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>The man scoffs.</p><p>“Shall we prove it?” says Hannibal.</p><p>When there is no reply, he climbs off the bed then lowers himself back down upon the cover. Lying on his stomach, facing away, he points his rear end at the camera and pulls down his shorts so they bunch at his thighs. Arching his back, he looks over his shoulder at him.</p><p>“Nothing?” he says after a while of silence, facing away again. “What about when I do this?”</p><p>Reaching back, he grabs his own ass cheeks and pulls to spread them open, exposing his entrance to the camera. For emphasis, he pushes and clenches a couple of times. Then, taking off the boxers and climbing the edge of the bed on his knees, he spreads his thighs the furthest they will go. Keeps his cheeks from obscuring the view with one hand before licking the middle finger on the other. Reaching back, he rubs it over his hole, wetting the tight pucker and making it gleam under the bright lighting. Eyes half drawn, he looks back over his shoulder again at the camera.</p><p>“Anything…?”</p><p>++++</p><p>At the question, Will swallows and stops biting his knuckle. He has never come so fast before in his life, and he blames it on not jerking off beforehand, although he knows that isn’t the sole cause. Truth is, he came within seconds of touching himself after the guy dropped his shorts and showed him his ass. Then, watching him play with himself like that, his dick was instantly hard again.</p><p>
  <em>Damnit.</em>
</p><p>“It feels good when someone licks you here,” says the man simply.</p><p>“I know,” Will mutters, trying to avert his eyes but failing. Face turned to the side, he continues to watch from the corners of his eyes those spit coated fingertips stroking over the winking pucker of the man’s anus. His dick is beginning to throb again.</p><p>“You let girls rim you?” he asks.</p><p>“No, but I eat their asses as well as pussies so I know.”</p><p>“Would you eat mine?”</p><p>Will swallows convulsively at the question.</p><p>“…you’re disgusting,” he utters under his breath, yet slowly starts to stroke. The mess from his first explosion still covering his chest and stomach.</p><p>“I’m clean,” says Hannibal frankly. “And tight. You would have to push your tongue really hard to get inside.”</p><p>“Can you stop talking,” Will grunts, eyes closing.</p><p>“Why,” he asks. “Am I going to make daddy come?”</p><p>Breaths deepening, Will opens his eyes just as Hannibal rolls over onto his back. Long legs tucking against his chest, he wets his fingers again before moving his hand down to tease at his already slick hole. Will can deny and argue all he likes, but he’s not going to last. And he feels encouraged by that dark stare to admit it and give in.</p><p>“You’re such a fucking naughty boy,” he finally breathes, slipping back into character.</p><p>“Are you going to punish me again, daddy…push your big cock inside my tiny hole.”</p><p>“Fuck,” Will curses as Hannibal clenches. Spitting generously into his hand, he starts to beat himself off hurriedly. The slick sounds no doubt reaching the other through the speaker.</p><p>“Do you want to, daddy.”</p><p>“Mnph.”</p><p>“Daddy.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I want you inside me. Do you want to be inside me too…”</p><p>“Y…yes...”</p><p>“I’m so tight, daddy.”</p><p>“Mnph-”</p><p>“You have to fuck me open, daddy.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Hard.”</p><p>“I’ll fill you right up, baby boy-”</p><p>“Promise?”</p><p>“Yes. Fuck.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Shit I’m going to come-”</p><p>“Come for me, daddy.”</p><p>“Are you ready?”</p><p>“Yes. Please hurry.”</p><p>“Fuck-”</p><p>“Fill me up, daddy-”</p><p>“Fuck!”</p><p>++++</p><p>He hadn’t intended to come, but, in the midst of their roleplay, he lost himself a little to the flow. Found himself imagining those blue eyes staring through their lashes at him. The man sat slumped in that expensive dressing gown with his hand around his dick, beating off like his life depended on it. His lips parted to his shallow pants as he returns Hannibal’s obscenities with his own. And, listening to them, he had started to touch himself on his own accord. The session timed out just after he came, and Hannibal didn’t get the chance to say bye. He was too busy finishing what he’d started.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sin City</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just saying because the characters make mistakes in this fic but please don't do drugs irresponsibly during this time. Hospital staff are struggling enough as it is dealing with Covid-19. Thanks.</p>
<p>Chapter is intended to be read to Blinding Lights by The Weeknd. A lyric only version can be found: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQO-upXnoUs</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He comes a second after the session has ended and doesn’t allow himself any recovery time because the clock is ticking. Cleaning himself up, he leaves the bedroom and walks into the kitchen. Putting a glass under the tap, he thinks about what the man said. <em>You’re disgusting</em>. A part of him agrees. He just hasn’t heard a member say that to him before. Turning off the water, he drinks thirstily from the glass before putting it down. <em>I want you inside me. Do you want to be inside me too?</em> Despite the things he said and the tone he said them in, though, he still wanted Hannibal. He knows this is what makes a lot of the girls in this line of work feel better about themselves, the notion of being in control, and being able to dictate the pace with members. It makes them feel empowered, to a degree. And as long as you remain professional about it, nobody will get hurt. A part of their conversation comes back to him and he stands there looking down at the empty glass.</p>
<p>
  <em>Have you done anal before?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Sure. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With a man? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Why not? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Because I’m not gay. </em>
</p>
<p>Chin lifting, Hannibal runs a hand through his hair.</p>
<p>“Neither am I,” he muses aloud, walking out of the kitchen.  </p>
<p>++++</p>
<p>
  <em>I been tryna call<br/>
I been on my own for long enough<br/>
Maybe you can show me how to love<br/>
Maybe<br/>
</em>
</p>
<p>Will knows that what he just did with Hannibal in the live chat was pretty fucking gay. But he keeps telling himself it’s just a smart mouth and a pink orifice. Anyone would find it hard not to get affected by either, and just to compensate for the homo shit, he watches straight porn afterwards. Beats himself off, no problem. Granted, it takes a little longer to get going, probably because he came twice in the session, but everything is still working the same. He still gets aroused seeing pussy and tits. Got nothing to worry about.</p>
<p>
  <em>I'm going through withdrawals<br/>
You don't even have to do too much<br/>
You can turn me on with just a touch<br/>
Baby</em>
</p>
<p>When he falls asleep on the settee, however, he dreams about being in that bed. Lying on his side beneath the cover. After a moment, Hannibal’s head pushes up into view, his lips red and wet from sucking.</p>
<p>“I want you inside me,” he says, voice roughened by Will’s cock.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Will murmurs, grabbing the soft tresses of his hair. “So suck it some more to stop me splitting you open, baby boy,” he adds, pushing his head back down beneath the cover.</p>
<p>He opens his eyes with a curse on his lips and desperately needing to go. Stood in front of the toilet, he has to push his dick down so he doesn’t piss into his face. Still feeling like he needs to recreate a sense of equilibrium, he texts Margot and asks what she’s doing.</p>
<p>
  <em>I look around and Sin City's cold and empty<br/>
No one's around to judge me<br/>
I can't see clearly when you're gone</em>
</p>
<p>++++</p>
<p>
  <em>I said, ooh<br/>
I'm blinded by the lights<br/>
No I can't sleep until I feel your touch<br/>
</em>
</p>
<p>“It’s called a power bottom,” explains Hannibal as he lies on his side, head leaning against his hand.</p>
<p>“How can someone who takes a dick up their ass have any power,” the man scoffs.</p>
<p>“It’s easy.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Sure. I would just need to incapacitate you, for example.”</p>
<p>A doubtful laugh travels through the speaker.</p>
<p>“And how do you plan to do that exactly?”</p>
<p>“You’ve been bedbound before,” he answers, pushing the hair from his eyes.</p>
<p>“When?”</p>
<p>“When you were ill.”</p>
<p>The words come out before Hannibal can stop them. Or maybe he is just curious how the man will react. Instead of a silent pause of acknowledgement, however, Hannibal hears amused laughter.</p>
<p>“Wow. Corona kink.”</p>
<p>“Should I start wearing a mask?” Hannibal asks, going along with the banter.</p>
<p>“No. Can’t see your face then, can I.”</p>
<p>“You like my face?” says Hannibal, looking up and lofting his brows at the camera.</p>
<p>“Well, I mean, you’d be like-”</p>
<p>Hannibal hears the man deliberately muffling some words through his hand.</p>
<p>“And I’d be like, what? And you’d be like-”</p>
<p>He does it again, making it hard for Hannibal not to start chuckling.</p>
<p>“And I’d be like, fuck this.”</p>
<p>The man also chuckles at his own joke, and Hannibal glances at the time on the monitor. They have spent a lot of it already just talking.</p>
<p>“Do you want to see how I’d do it?” he asks.</p>
<p>“Do what?” says the man.</p>
<p>“Ride daddy into the bed,” he says casually.</p>
<p>“…fuck yeah.”</p>
<p>“Give me a minute. I have to move a few things.”</p>
<p>++++</p>
<p>
  <em>I said, ooh<br/>
I'm drowning in the night<br/>
Oh, when I'm like this<br/>
You're the one I trust</em>
</p>
<p>Will sees the man coming towards the camera and hears the sound of the monitor being shifted.</p>
<p>“This better be good,” he says with playful scepticism, sitting in the desk chair with his legs crossed and a beer in his hand. “You’re losing precious time,” he adds, taking a sip.</p>
<p>“Be patient,” comes the response as Hannibal continues to mess around with the equipment. The camera is lowered to ground level and Will watches his feet walking away, revealing the long stretch of his slender legs topped by that butt clad in tiny boxer briefs. Kind of reminding him of the pins on a catwalk model, except he doesn’t need to wear heels. Plus, he’d have to shave all that hair off, but it’s not bad to look at as it is. Not bad at all, Will thinks privately as he lifts the can to his lips again.</p>
<p>++++</p>
<p>Closing the drawer, he turns around and stops at a good viewing distance from the camera before squatting down.</p>
<p>“What the fuck is that?” comes the exclamation which Hannibal presumes is directed at the modest five inch dildo he is fixing to the wood floor via its suction cup base.</p>
<p>“Why aren’t you using the big black one?” the man continues to complain.</p>
<p>“The one you want to try yourself?” retorts Hannibal calmly as he twangs the dildo to check it won’t move out of place.</p>
<p>“Fuck no.”</p>
<p>“Exactly,” he says, looking into the camera. “So be quiet.”</p>
<p>“Rude. Aren’t you guys meant to be looser than a rich man’s wallet anyway?”</p>
<p>“Now who is being rude?” he says, lofting his brows as he reaches for the bottle of lube. “For your information, this is not my usual line of work,” he adds, pumping a good amount of the translucent gunk into his palm.  </p>
<p>“I don’t believe you,” says the man.</p>
<p>“Why not,” he asks, slathering silicone.</p>
<p>“Look at you.”</p>
<p>++++</p>
<p>
  <em>I'm running out of time<br/>
'Cause I can see the sun light up the sky<br/>
So I hit the road in overdrive<br/>
Baby</em>
</p>
<p>He spoke without thinking. That much he knows when he sees those hooded eyes glancing briefly at him before returning their attention to the dildo.</p>
<p>“What,” says Hannibal, “I look like a fag?”</p>
<p>
  <em>No, but I can’t follow that up with I think you’re hot, so</em>
</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Will lies.</p>
<p>“Did you know I was one when I delivered your parcels?” he asks.</p>
<p>“Sure,” says Will nonchalantly.</p>
<p>The realisation of what he has just admitted comes half a second later and he swallows to stop the breath catching in his throat at the blunder.</p>
<p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p>
<p>“Same.”</p>
<p>At the simple yet loaded statement, Will keeps his eyes on the slick covered hand until it suddenly disappears with the notification sound. <em>Time’s up</em>.</p>
<p>++++</p>
<p>Hannibal notices the man, or rather, Mr Graham, doesn’t come back to the sessions. He’s quite sure it is him, now, and knew the other would either embrace or reject this route they were travelling down. Technically, it doesn’t matter too much to Hannibal. Even without Mr Graham’s business, he can still make enough transactions to get by. There is no need to waste time thinking about what has happened to, in essence, a dick in denial. It’s good to know how to put things into perspective in this line of work, he tells himself. It wouldn’t work, otherwise.</p>
<p>After a fortnight, he has a dream about the man. In it, he’s walking down the corridor to his apartment. Putting down the box, he rings the doorbell and starts to walk away again like he has done many times before. When he doesn’t hear the door opening, he looks over his shoulder. Turns round and walks back to the door. He stands there for a long time, ringing the bell, but nothing. No sounds on the other side. No voice coming through the door asking for help.</p>
<p>When he wakes up, he feels unsettled, and even though he gets up and goes about his day as usual, he cannot shake the ominous feeling the dream has left him with or the way it reminds him of his mother and her claim that dreams can also be premonitions. He also hears on the news that lock down is causing an increase in the case of people experiencing strange dreams during this unusual time, however, and after searching and finding Mr W Graham on social media, he learns that the man is in fact still alive based on his most recent post, and decides to leave it at that.</p>
<p>++++  </p>
<p>
  <em>The city's cold and empty<br/>
No one's around to judge me<br/>
I can't see clearly when you're gone</em>
</p>
<p>It’s a troubling time for Will Graham. Not long after being called out by the delivery guy in live chat, he received a call from Margot to say she’s pregnant. Of course he told her not to keep it, which only pissed her off, and things got quite nasty between them. Hutton also called to say the company has to make some unpleasant decisions and that they need his input before breaking the news to employees. As a result, his mood had plummeted, together with his general outlook on life. He stayed away from the website even though he can’t stop thinking about the guy. Eventually, he knocks on Natalia to ask if she has any weed. In a quiet voice, she tells him she hasn’t, but knows where he can get a hold of some coke instead, if he’s interested.</p>
<p>
  <em>I said, ooh<br/>
I'm blinded by the lights<br/>
No I can't sleep until I feel your touch</em>
</p>
<p>It seemed like a good idea at the time, opting for something stronger to give him respite from the whole situation. He hadn’t done cocaine before and didn’t know it was going to make him even more fucking horny. Natalia had said to take only a tiny amount, so he did, but it was some potent shit alright. Having snorted a line on his desk, he feels much better about himself, and goes back to the website. Makes himself a new account. And invites himself to the session.</p>
<p>
  <em>I said, ooh<br/>
I'm drowning in the night<br/>
Oh, when I'm like this<br/>
You're the one I trust</em>
</p>
<p>++++</p>
<p>
  <em>I'm just walking by to let you know </em>
</p>
<p>It’s not unusual to see new members appearing on the monitor, but he does notice the silence of this particular member compared to everyone else. It reminds him of how Mr Graham had started out, and he can’t help wondering whether he has come back. Whether it is him or not, however, he has to do his job regardless.</p>
<p>++++</p>
<p>
  <em>I can never say it on the phone</em>
</p>
<p>Even after snorting his second line, Will can’t quite manage to bring himself to speak. So he just watches until Hannibal goes private and hurriedly cuts himself another line. When that’s gone, he gets up and goes into the bathroom to check his reflection. His beard isn’t as maintained, and his hair has grown, but he smiles, running a hand through his returning curls. <em>Still got it</em>. Grabbing his keys, he drops them in the pocket of his bath robe before opening the front door and walking out into the corridor in just his shorts. He’s about to knock on Natalia’s door when he feels his heart racing faster than he can breathe, and blacks out.  </p>
<p>
  <em>Will never let you go<br/>
This time</em>
</p>
<p>++++</p>
<p>
  <em>I said, ooh<br/>
I'm blinded by the lights<br/>
No I can't sleep until I feel your touch</em>
</p>
<p>He knows how stupid he will look when the door opens and the man sees him leaning against the corridor, just out of the peephole’s range.</p>
<p>
  <em>I was just dropping off another package for Natalia. Thought I’d check in on you.</em>
</p>
<p>No.</p>
<p>
  <em>I was just dropping off another package for Natalia. Were you spying on me as a new member?</em>
</p>
<p>No.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ve been stalking your social media and you haven’t posted so I was wondering if you’re still alive. </em>
</p>
<p>Hopefully he won’t even open the door. Save Hannibal some face. He blames his mother for dragging himself over here. Her and her talk of premonitions.</p>
<p>Reaching the door, he presses the doorbell. Runs a hand through his hair before leaning back against the opposite wall with his hands in his jacket pockets. When nothing happens, he rings the bell again, growing paranoid that his mother had been right after all. Eventually, he resorts to knocking loudly on the door.</p>
<p>“Mr Graham?” he calls.</p>
<p>The door next to it opens and he sees Natalia peering out at him with an anxious expression.</p>
<p>“He’s not here,” she says quietly.</p>
<p>“Where is he?” he asks, hands returning to his pockets.</p>
<p>“Hospital,” she says, averting her gaze as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear then folds her arms over her robe. “He overdosed,” she adds, chewing her bottom lip.</p>
<p>“On what?”</p>
<p>“Coke.”</p>
<p>She looks up at him then to the side.</p>
<p>“I heard a bang so I opened the door and he was lying on the floor,” she explains, toying distractedly with her lower lip as she recounts. “I called to him but he didn’t answer, so I called the ambulance.”</p>
<p>“Have you seen him?” asks Hannibal.</p>
<p>“No,” she says regretfully, shaking her head and refolding her arms. “They don’t allow visitors now.”</p>
<p>He watches the door to his apartment for a moment.</p>
<p>“Do you know if he's okay?” he asks.</p>
<p>“No,” she says. “Sorry.”</p>
<p>
  <em>I said, ooh</em><br/>
<em>I'm blinded by the lights</em><br/>
<em>No I can't sleep until I feel your touch</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Just a Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nobody wants to go to hospital. For many, it’s a place associated with the old and sickly. Fit and healthy people generally don’t belong there even though there have been increasing cases of the latter falling victim to the virus. As a whole, the healthcare’s stretched supply of respirators is reserved for the worst cases, the majority of them involving elderly patients and those with serious underlying health problems. And then there are cases like Will. </p><p>With the aid of medical treatment, he recovers from the overdose despite suffering respiratory failure, and is soon discharged. Wearing borrowed clothing, he carries a bag with his bath robe inside, and walks out without looking anyone in the eye. Hutton is waiting for him outside. He drives him back to his apartment without asking too much. He already knows what happened. The only thing he does say is that he won’t mention the cocaine if the company asks, but Will tells him it’s okay. He made a mistake and he doesn’t want Hutton to get into trouble lying for him. When they pull up outside the apartment complex, Will thanks the man for his help before getting out.  </p><p>Less than a week later, however, an ambulance returns to the complex for a second time. Will has developed all the symptoms of the virus and is finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. Can barely find the breath to explain to the operator as he lies there in bed, clutching the phone to his sweating face.</p><p>It takes him another two weeks to get over it, and this time he comes out to find the company has gone ahead without him and put almost all the staff on furlough. Thanks to Hutton’s support, Will isn’t dismissed for his reckless behaviour. He does, however, have to accept a pay cut, which is better than losing his job, but he probably won’t be able to keep his apartment in the long run.</p><p>The first night he’s back in his own bed after spending most of the day cleaning and putting things in to wash, Will can’t sleep. After being used to the continuous noises of the hospital, it feels too quiet in the apartment, even if he has propped open the bedroom window. It had been lonely and even scary at times, lying in the hospital bed. When he wasn’t delirious from the fever, he was spending a lot of time waking up intermittently from the sounds of the machines and hospital staff doing their job. The nurses were constant company, although they were so busy, he felt bad to ask for their help to use the bathroom. When fatigue hit, even the simplest things were difficult. What he found hardest, though, was keeping his thoughts at bay. Thoughts of the company. Of Margot. Sometimes he dreamt about her calling him in a panic to say she’s in labour. Other times, he dreamt of Hannibal. Visiting him. Wearing his red tracksuit with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, like always.</p><p>Lying there, watching the ceiling, he realises he never did leave the guy a message. He had been too embarrassed to go straight back on the website when he returned from hospital the first time. Then he fell ill.</p><p>Pushing aside the cover, he slowly climbs out of bed and walks to the office. Sitting down at the desk, he opens his laptop and signs in. As the page loads, he realises Hannibal is no longer available. Hasn’t been for weeks. The message box sits empty and there’s no further info to be found anywhere on the website. He sits back in the desk chair, thinking. Perhaps his own past ordeals are influencing him to think of the worst case scenario, but he knows he should at least try to find out if the guy’s okay. He had attempted to visit Will, after all. Natalia had told him.  </p><p>So he ends up back on Love Lecter. It’s late, but they claim to be available 24 hours on the website, so there’s no harm in trying, Will thinks to himself. He clicks on the live help icon.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Hi, I’m Mischa. How can I help you?</em> </strong>
</p><p>Sitting up in the chair, Will puts his hands over the keyboard as he thinks about what to say.</p><p>
  <strong>Hi, Mischa. Sorry, I have a question about Hannibal.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Typing…</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Do you have a question regarding our products?</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Please. I’m worried about him.</strong>
</p><p>A pause before he adds:</p><p>
  <strong>We’re friends.</strong>
</p><p>A pause before she replies.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Thank you for your concern. The information will be passed on.</em> </strong>
</p><p>Then:</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Do you have a question regarding our products?</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>No, thank you.</strong>
</p><p>There isn’t much he can do with Mischa’s response, so he tries to let it rest. Whatever family fallout they had, hopefully they’re still inclined to look out for one another, Will muses. Meanwhile, he’ll try to do that for himself. Get back into some kind of routine. And, finances permitting, he ought to make a donation to the hospital for their help and for taking up their time.</p><p>Soon, he is back to doing his laps of the neighbourhood, except he drags it out for as long as he can to really feel like he’s achieved something. When this is all over, he might do a marathon to raise money for the healthcare service. On his way back to the complex, he sees a red track suit in the distance and almost trips over a curb. It’s been over a month. Nearing two. Swallowing, he runs his hand through his curls and debates within himself for a second longer before jogging towards the figure.</p><p>When he gets close enough, he slows down and tries to catch his breath. Runs his hand through his hair again and licks his lips.</p><p>“Hey,” he cries in surprise as he nears the back of him. The red tracksuit pauses and turns to face him.</p><p>Stopping two metres away, Will exhales laughingly, hands moving to his hips.</p><p>“It’s good to see you,” he says, smiling. Hannibal hasn’t changed since the last he saw him online. The same fair spikes are being swept across his eyes by the wind. He still regards Will with the same impassive expression as he did in their one to ones except for when he was - Will quickly puts a stop to that train of thought.</p><p>“Same,” says Hannibal as he continues to stand there with his hands in his pockets.</p><p>At the pause, Will looks to the nearby bench.</p><p>“Do you wanna,” he begins to say, and they move over to sit down at opposing ends.</p><p>“My sister called round,” says Hannibal, and Will watches those hooded eyes squinting against the wind. “Someone made her think I was in trouble.”</p><p>“Yeah,” says Will guiltily, folding his arms and leaning over his legs. “I didn’t know if you were okay,” he continues to say, raking back his curls as he watches the ground. “There wasn’t a way for me to know, so.”</p><p>“You look well,” says Hannibal after a moment, and Will glances sidelong at that dark gaze.</p><p>“Thanks,” he says, smiling at the floor.</p><p>“I heard you were in hospital.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Will exhales, smile fading as he sits up and leans back against the bench. “It was stupid,” he says quietly.</p><p>“It was.”</p><p>His voice is matter of fact and devoid of emotion. Still, Will finds comfort in it.</p><p>“When did you get out,” he asks.</p><p>“Just.”</p><p>“You were in a long time, then.”</p><p>“Oh, no, I had to go back,” explains Will. “I caught the virus while I was in there.”</p><p>After a pause during which Hannibal doesn’t comment, he adds:</p><p>“Woke up one night and couldn’t breathe, so I called the ambulance. I’m okay now, though.”</p><p>“That’s good.”</p><p>“Yeah. Anyway,” says Will, shoving his hands in his short pockets and turning his face to regard the other, “what were you coming for?”</p><p>“To let you know I’m still alive,” says Hannibal.</p><p>Will watches his profile for a moment.</p><p>“Thanks for letting me know,” he says, looking towards the complex.</p><p>There is an awkward stretch of silence as neither says anything. Then, clearing his throat, Will drags his fingers hesitantly through his curls.</p><p>“So the restaurants and cinemas are all shut,” he begins to say.</p><p>“I prefer football.”</p><p>“And that,” Will makes himself continue despite the interruption.</p><p>“But uh…I can offer you a coffee at mine,” he adds, lowering his hand into his lap. “You can see the apartment before I have to give it up,” he says, looking back at the complex. “Can’t pay for it anymore, so.”</p><p>“I’m sorry to hear that.”</p><p>“Ah, it could be worse,” says Will. “I could have kids,” he scoffs quietly under his breath.</p><p>As though on cue, some kid kicks a football their way and Will stands up to kick it back.</p><p>“So how about it?” he asks, sticking his hands in his pockets and squinting at the kid running back across the grass.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>++++</p><p>Will hopes Natalia isn’t in. He wouldn’t know what to say about being seen with Hannibal. In casual conversation, he would inevitably end up lying. If Hannibal comes up with one first, it won’t be as bad. But Will doesn’t know if the man would be offended. Either way, he’s lucky her door doesn’t open as they reach his own. He just hopes he’s left the apartment in a semi presentable state.</p><p>“Sorry for the mess,” he apologies in advance anyway as he inserts the key. “Not long been back.”</p><p>Opening the door, he holds it back for the other and waits until Hannibal has stepped inside before closing it behind them.</p><p>“Have a seat,” he says after casting an eye over the living space to find it’s in acceptable shape. “I’ll put some water on for the coffee.”</p><p>++++</p><p>As the man walks past to the open kitchen unit behind the L shaped settee, Hannibal glances down at the rug then at his own shoes. He’s about to walk back towards the door when the other says,</p><p>“Don’t worry about taking your shoes off.”</p><p>++++</p><p>Although, Will thinks to himself, maybe if he did take them off, it’d stop him suddenly leaving. Or at least slow down the process a little. Filling the kettle with water, he puts it on and looks over to watch the back of Hannibal’s head. He has chosen to sit in the middle of the settee, avoiding the corner. Will can choose to either sit on the end next to him, or at a right angle on the full length section of the L.</p><p>“Do you take milk and sugar?” he asks.</p><p>“No, thank you.”</p><p>“Black it is,” says Will, suddenly remembering the pegging porno and trying his best to quash the memory. Even when he does, though, another one surfaces. This time of Hannibal blowing a very similar dildo.</p><p>“You have a nice apartment.”</p><p>“Thanks,” says Will, busying himself by opening a cupboard and grabbing a couple of mugs. “For now, at least,” he adds, spooning coffee granules into the mugs. He does have an espresso machine, but he’s run out of caps for it. Plus, making coffee this way is a welcome distraction, and he likes the way the rumble of the kettle fills the silence in the air. Picking up the mugs, he walks round the settee.</p><p>“Here,” he says, putting a mug down on the coffee table. As Hannibal utters his thanks and leans forward to pick it up, Will slowly lowers himself onto the end of the furniture, leaving enough space between them but sitting next to the man nonetheless. Lifting the mug for a sip, Will licks his lips afterwards and turns his face to look at the other.</p><p>“So how’ve you been?” he asks. “Not camming anymore?”</p><p>“I moved companies,” says Hannibal, gazing into the space ahead of him as he lifts the mug to his lips.</p><p>“Better rates?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“That’s good.”</p><p>Will lifts the mug.</p><p>“I probably won’t be able to afford it anyway after this pay cut,” he says wistfully into his coffee at the thought of his potential debts.</p><p>“I won’t charge you this time.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Will chuckles. Looks over at Hannibal. His smile fades as he holds that dark gaze. Lowering the mug, he clasps it between his hands before swallowing and beginning to lean towards the other. At the thought of him leaning away, however, Will stops and, glancing aside, is about to lean back when he feels a hand grabbing him by the front of his still damp tee. As it slowly pulls him in, their heads come close enough for Will to smell the coffee on Hannibal’s breath. See those hooded eyes watching through fair lashes at his own mouth up close. And Will keeps his gaze on those faintly parted lips across from his as he swallows and gradually tilts his head, eyes darting back up to check it’s okay before returning their attention to that which has featured far too often in his dreams. Just as he’s about to press forward, the doorbell goes.</p><p>Exhaling, Will licks his lips and runs his hand through his hair as he stands up.</p><p>“Sorry,” he utters quickly as he makes his way over to the door. Looking through the peephole, he hangs his head for a moment and heaves a quiet sigh before pulling open the door.</p><p>“Hey,” says Margot.</p><p>“Hey,” says Will.</p><p>“We need to talk about this baby.”</p><p>“Can we maybe do this another time?”</p><p>“Well I’m here now, unless you want to pay for my taxi fare.”</p><p>When he hesitates, Margot exhales exasperatedly and pushes past him into the apartment.</p><p>“Oh, hi,” he hears her say, and, turning around, he sees Hannibal stopping two metres from Margot.</p><p>“I was just leaving,” he says, hands in his jacket pockets.</p><p>“You don’t,” Will begins to say but stops as he watches Hannibal keep a respectful distance while walking round Margot, past Will, and out of the open doorway.</p><p>“Who was that?” he hears Margot ask, and stops looking at the empty corridor.</p><p>“Just a friend,” he says quietly, closing the door.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Moving Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Turning around, he meets her wary stare.</p><p>“What?” he asks quietly. When she doesn’t answer, he adds, “He’s not my dealer, if that’s what you’re thinking.”</p><p>“Better not be,” she utters with her arms folded over the beginning bump of her belly.</p><p>“Sit down,” he says, looking up from – he hesitates to say it to himself – his child and walking towards the kitchen. “I’ll make you a drink.”</p><p>“Do you have any of that herbal stuff?”</p><p>“I’ll have a look.”</p><p>Opening the cupboard, he picks up a barely used packet of herbal tea.</p><p>“You okay with peppermint?” he asks, eyes falling on the mug in the sink. The coffee sitting cold and dark inside it.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Margot remains silent until the noise of the kettle has faded and Will is walking over with the tea. She is sitting in the corner with her legs tucked up on the upholstery instead of sprawling seductively on the chaise like she used to. Sat like this, she looks vulnerable and defensive, and instead of making her move, Will steps closer and turns the mug in his hands before offering it to her.</p><p>“Thanks,” she mutters, taking the handle.</p><p>Sitting down, he leans over his legs and clasps his hands. His own mug is still on the coffee table.</p><p>“I know you’re not attracted to me anymore because I’m fat,” Margot utters into the mug.</p><p>“That’s not true,” says Will, looking over to see her staring into the space ahead of them.</p><p>“But I don’t care,” she continues to murmur as though she hasn’t heard him, “as long as the baby gets what it needs.”</p><p>“Sure,” he says.</p><p>“You promise?” she asks, watching him from the corners of her eyes. If Margot is feeling any doubt or anxiety for their situation, it is not easily found in that wide eyed stare. Those grey-blue depths which had set him alight when she played the domineering role in their past dalliances now leaves him feeling cold as though he has been touched by steel.  </p><p>“Yeah, I promise.”</p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>She turns her eyes away as she lifts the mug.</p><p>“You’d better.”</p><p>++++</p><p>After Margot leaves, he picks up his mug and puts it in the sink beside the one Hannibal had used. Standing there, looking down at it, he realises he doesn’t have a way besides the family website to contact the guy, and he already feels like he has hassled them enough with his non-product-related enquiries. He will just have to type his name into the search engine again. Trawl through a few porn sites to see if anyone has posted a link for his new hosting website. He had been too distracted earlier to think beyond the way those hooded eyes had watched him, but the image of his empty inbox on the old hosting website comes back to him and he can’t help thinking if Hannibal didn’t think to tell him about his move then, there’s no reason for him to change his mind now. <em>Even if he did…</em> Brow knitting, Will turns his face away as though from the sound of his own inner voice. <em>What? We did nothing</em>. Standing up, he makes his way to the bathroom. A shower ought to drown out these voices, he tells himself.</p><p>++++</p><p>The internet is, without a doubt, the single most resourceful tool at one’s fingertips thinks Will as he thanks aloud a user he does not know and clicks on the link for Hannibal’s new hosting website. Even just seeing his picture compared to the ominous blank of the no longer available is enough to make him smile. After creating a new profile, he looks at the option to join the live session. Looks back at his picture. Thinks again about the empty inbox. Looking aside, he lowers his head and itches restlessly at his hairline before sitting up and going to the messages tab. His hands fall still over the keyboard as he thinks about what to say. Then, slowly, he begins to type.</p><p>
  <strong>Hey. Can we talk?</strong>
</p><p>Looking at the words, he hesitates before adding:</p><p>
  <strong>I’m sorry about what happened.</strong>
</p><p>After another pause, he deletes the sentence he just typed. <em>You can apologise in person</em>. Looks at the remaining words once more before clicking send. Then lowers the lid of the laptop.</p><p>++++</p><p>He gives it a full week without joining any sessions, but his inbox remains as empty by the end as in the beginning. He almost sends another message. <em>You can ignore me, but will you ignore my money?</em> In the spur of the moment, driven by a stung ego and whatever it is that makes him feel so unsettled deep down, he clicks to join the live session. Barely sees him for a second before clicking go private. His heart racing like it did the first time, just not with excitement.</p><p>“You been avoiding daddy?” he says when they’re alone, deciding last minute to mask his unease with the old roleplay. Lying back on his elbows like he always does, Hannibal remains hard to gauge with that unreadable expression.</p><p>“Is that appropriate,” he asks, looking at the camera.</p><p>Beginning to bristle at his words, Will averts his gaze even though the other can’t see him.</p><p>“What does it matter to you?” he says coolly. At the pause, he looks back at the screen to see hooded eyes studying the bed cover.</p><p>“You shouldn’t waste your money,” says Hannibal eventually, looking up, and Will doesn’t know what disturbs him more – the lack of expression or being told what is best for him.</p><p>“I’m not paying you to be my fucking wife,” he drawls lowly, avoiding that dark gaze. “So just give me what I came for.”</p><p>“Okay,” says Hannibal calmly. “But that’s it after this.”</p><p>Scoffing, Will runs a hand onto his face and toys anxiously with his beard.</p><p>“What, you gonna ban me?” he snorts.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Wow,” he laughs to hide the upset, dropping his hand to drum his fingers on the desk. “Okay.” He opens a drawer. “Fine.” Takes out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. “Let’s not waste any time then,” he says, sticking a cigarette between his lips and lighting up. Hannibal doesn’t say anything. Just waits. Will watches him as he tosses the lighter down and draws hard from the stick before exhaling forcefully. “I want you to fuck yourself,” he says, eyes falling to a half close as he leans back and returns the cigarette to his lips.</p><p>“No,” says Hannibal.</p><p>“Don’t make me leave negative feedback,” Will murmurs, waiting for hooded eyes to look at him before adding, “I’m sure your new boss would be interested to know the real reason you left the last studio.”</p><p>Hannibal holds his gaze. Then finally looks aside.</p><p>“I’ll suck it instead,” he says.</p><p>“I’ve said what I want,” says Will, unwilling to back down despite knowing this is the wrong direction to take things. He has let the man get to him, like no other has before, and driven by this fact, there’s no stopping his destructive anger now. Not unless Hannibal ends the session himself. Instead, Will watches him lower his eyes. Without a word, he sits up and leans over to open the drawer in the bedside table.</p><p>++++</p><p>“Say you like it,” he says through the speaker.</p><p>“I like it,” Hannibal exhales as he continues to pump the dildo in and out of himself as ordered. It’s been a while, and he hadn’t prepared beforehand. Tense and unyielding, his body doesn’t easily take the large silicone which keeps threatening to slip out.</p><p>“Say it properly.”</p><p>“I like it, daddy.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yes-”</p><p>“You like having daddy’s cock inside you?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Stretching you open?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Do you want me to stop fucking you?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Say it.”</p><p>“Please don’t stop, daddy.”</p><p>“Say you need it.”</p><p>“I need it, daddy.”</p><p>“Say you’ve missed me.”</p><p>“I’ve missed you, daddy.”</p><p>“Look at me.”</p><p>Opening his eyes, he watches the camera through his lashes as his chest heaves. The hurried rhythm of his hand accented by the loud squelch of oversized and over-slathered silicone being forced repeatedly up his passage. </p><p>“Say it again.”</p><p>Swallowing as he feels himself nearing, Hannibal closes his eyes.</p><p>“I’ve missed you, daddy,” he pants, and hears a muffled groan escaping through the speaker. With a grunt, he arches against the bed as his cock thickens and he clenches down on the dildo just as the spurts begin to leave him. They land thick and fast over his heaving chest and stomach. Through his half drawn eyes, he sees the timer on the monitor. Lies there catching his breath while listening to him doing the same through the speaker. Just before the session times out, he looks into the camera.</p><p>“Bye, Will.”</p><p>++++</p><p>Dragging the tissue over his eyes, Will chuckles quietly as he finishes cleaning himself off. <em>Look at you</em>. Getting up, he puts the waste in the bin and walks into the bathroom. Turning on the tap, he washes his hands then face in the stream. He stands there with his hands on the edge of the sink, watching his reflection in the mirror, thinking about the sound of his voice saying his name. When he can’t bear to look any longer, he turns off the water and walks out.</p><p>++++</p><p>Not long after, everyone receives a message from the company to remind them of the importance of following protocol, especially during the lock down period. The incident that triggered the warning involved the meeting up of one of their employees with a member who then became aggressive. On top of this, the employee could also have been at risk of contracting Covid-19 based on suspect activities undertaken by the member. As a result, the company has made the decision not to continue the contract with the employee and would like to use the case as a reminder for remaining employees to heed both company and government regulations.</p><p>What the message doesn’t mention is that the member was fined by the police after he was caught with the employee in a park during later hours. Or at least, that is the word going around on the group threads. There is also a photo of the employee on one of the threads. A cam-boy who, under the right lighting, bears a strong resemblance to Hannibal. He tries to find out more about the member, but their privacy is protected by the company and nothing comes up on the internet about police fining people for acts of indecency in a local park during lock down. Thread rumour has it, though, that the member was a CEO.   </p><p>++++</p><p>When the door opens, Hannibal is struck first by how tired he looks. His beard is getting long, as is his hair. There are shadows under his half drawn eyes which still widen in surprise upon seeing him.</p><p>“Hey,” he says.</p><p>“Hey,” says Hannibal.</p><p>For a moment, blue eyes continue to watch him until the man stirs himself by clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.</p><p>“Do you want to come in?” he asks. Watching Hannibal standing there with his hands in his jacket pockets, he adds when he senses the hesitation, “You came all the way. Might as well.”</p><p>++++</p><p>Although he didn’t say please, he might as well have. Maybe he was staring too imploringly, or his unkempt state roused enough pity in the other to make him enter the apartment. Either way, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever see Hannibal again so he knows he should be grateful he’s here now, but also careful not to say or do anything that could make him walk out again.</p><p>++++</p><p>The apartment is very sparse. He assumes the other has been selling off a lot of his belongings. Apart from the settee, most of the expensive looking furniture has gone. Without the huge flat screen television, the wall it used to hang upon looks empty and bare. As he stands there in the middle of the living space with his hands in his jacket pockets, he can’t help wondering if some of the money was used to pay his colleagues. Or ex-colleagues.</p><p>++++</p><p>Having filled the kettle up, he puts it on and turns around to see Hannibal watching the blank wall.</p><p>“You can sit down if you want,” he says, and hooded eyes look over.</p><p>“Have you read your messages?” he asks.</p><p>“Messages,” repeats Will. “On the website? I haven’t been on since…why?”</p><p>Hannibal continues to stare at him.</p><p>“I can show you the browser history,” he offers, putting his hands in his robe pockets and looking towards his office. “I said I’d leave you alone, so,” he adds, remembering he never did send that message of apology after their last session. Once more, he had been too embarrassed. Saved by the growing rumble of the kettle, he faces the cupboards and opens one to remove a couple of mugs.</p><p>++++</p><p>“Do you mind?”</p><p>Hannibal looks at the lighter and packet of cigarettes clutched in the other’s hand.</p><p>“It’s my last pack, before you say anything,” the man adds with a small smile. When Hannibal remains silent, he pulls out one of the sticks and pushes it between his lips before lighting up. The packet is offered his way, but Hannibal lifts his mug, turning his eyes back to the wall.</p><p>++++</p><p>Pulling from the cigarette, Will turns his eyes from the other’s profile as he exhales.</p><p>“So what’s this about?” he asks.</p><p>“We all received a warning because one of our workers met up with a member,” says Hannibal, taking a sip from his mug. Drawing from the cigarette, Will waits for him to continue. When he doesn’t, Will blows more smoke into the air between them.</p><p>“You thought it was me?” he asks.</p><p>Lowering the mug, Hannibal continues to avoid his gaze.</p><p>“The boy looks like me,” he says, as way of explaining. “From the right angle.”</p><p>Chuckling softly, Will lowers his eyes and rubs his foot over the dent in the carpet left by one of the coffee table legs.</p><p>“I’m not that desperate,” he says with a self-deprecating smile. “Can’t really afford to keep anyone happy these days,” he adds, smile waning. “God knows how I’m going to pay for this baby. Selling everything helps, for now at least. You don’t have to worry about dirtying that rug anymore.” Pushing the cigarette back between his lips, he draws deeply from it before leaning back and exhaling a long and continuous stream. “Settee’s next to go,” he continues to say, lifting his hand to itch at his eyebrow with his thumb. “Got people coming for it later today, actually. Good job you came now or I’d be offering you the bed,” he utters jokingly before realising what he’s just said and quickly adding, “the floor.” But the sexual associations have only transferred from one location to another, and before he can help it, the old pang of yearning has resurfaced in the depths of his belly. He sticks the cigarette back into his mouth to stop himself talking.</p><p>“When are you moving?” Hannibal asks eventually.</p><p>“There’s a couple of places on the other side of town but I haven’t confirmed yet,” says Will. “Should leave me enough to give Margot.”</p><p>“You’re not moving in together?”</p><p>“God no,” Will chuckles softly. “She’s staying at her mother’s. She lives in a good area.”</p><p>Seeing the cigarette has almost burned down to the filter, he stubs it out on the dish sitting on the settee between them. Picks up the packet and opens the lid.</p><p>“I know someone who is looking for a roommate,” says Hannibal.</p><p>“Yeah? How much are they asking?” says Will, pulling out another cigarette.</p><p>“Can you cook and clean?” he asks.</p><p>“Just about,” Will answers, brow knitting as he looks over with the cigarette half raised in the air. Hannibal looks at him as though to confirm his suspicions.</p><p>“…that’s kind of you,” says Will, swallowing and lowering his eyes. “But I’d have to pay something and if I’m being honest, I think they’re putting me on furlough.” He pushes the new cigarette between his lips. “Plus I’d cramp your style,” he mumbles around it.</p><p>“I know how to cut hair,” says Hannibal.</p><p>“Fuck off,” laughs Will, grabbing the cigarette and looking over as he runs a hand through his curls. “There’s nothing wrong with my hair.”</p><p>Sat leaning over his legs with the mug clasped between his hands, Hannibal looks back at him. Aglow with the rays of sunlight falling through the window, the man looks good just sitting there, smiling. It reminds Will of the moment when their faces had almost touched. When the smile begins to fade on those narrow lips, he wants to go back in time to see it again.</p><p>“I really am in need of a cleaner,” he says.</p><p>“What,” Will chuckles, hoping to inspire a smile to return upon that serious countenance, “you’re telling me everything outside of your bedroom’s a shithole?”</p><p>He does it again, realising the import of his words only after he’s used them, and feels the smile giving way to a frown as he holds that dark gaze. Earnest and patient. It makes him frown the harder because he’s not sure if he deserves it.</p><p>The man is offering him a place to go. He’ll still be working, most likely. While Will sleeps in the spare bedroom or on the settee. It might be harder than going it alone in a rougher part of the city. It might not. If he says yes, he’ll find out. If he says no, that’s it. Out he walks from his life again, even though it doesn’t have to be that way.</p><p>“It was a bad idea,” says Hannibal, standing up, and Will realises he must’ve been staring unresponsively.</p><p>“No, I,” he begins to say, also standing up, “I’d like to give it a try…if that’s okay.”</p><p>++++    </p><p>Standing across from him, with the sunlight teasing through those unruly curls and illuminating the vivid blue of his scared eyes, Will Graham isn’t the man Hannibal thought he was the first time they crossed paths in the corridor. It was something he’d managed to confirm back when Mischa had turned up to check he was okay. That this guy with whom he has interacted more online than he has in real life does actually have a heart. Even if it is encumbered by pride. And yet he doesn’t look half so arrogant now, wearing that fearful frown on his face. So Hannibal does the one thing that will alleviate one of the man’s many worries. He smiles. And after a moment, Will smiles back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Milk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The area that Hannibal lives in isn’t great, but there is enough space in his modest apartment for Will to have his own bed as opposed to sleeping on the settee. Standing at the threshold of the spare bedroom feels akin to standing in front of a walk-in wardrobe bereft of its luxury contents, Will muses privately as his eyes fall on the small double bed.</p><p>“Here,” says Hannibal, and Will turns from the doorway in time to catch the key tossed at him.</p><p>“Thanks,” he says, watching the other begin to stride towards the front door. “Is there another box?”</p><p>Already half out of the apartment, Hannibal pauses to look back at him past the edge of the door.</p><p>“I’m going to work,” he states. After a brief pause, he adds, “Did I not tell you?”</p><p>Will lofts his brows as he recovers from the initial confusion.</p><p>“You were busy with the boxes,” he says casually. “Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“Okay,” says Hannibal, disappearing behind the door. Darting over to catch it before it closes, Will leans out into the corridor.</p><p>“What time you back?” he cries after the other.</p><p>“Before six,” Hannibal cries back.</p><p>“Right,” Will cries again, watching the back of that red tracksuit as the man jogs off. Then, raising his voice, he quickly adds, “Did you want me to cook?”</p><p>Hannibal disappears round the corner but Will hears him shout:</p><p>“Sure!”</p><p>Stepping back inside, he closes the door and turns to face the living space. There isn’t a huge lot in terms of furnishings – television, settee, coffee table, potted house plant – but enough surface area to collect dust nonetheless. He can even see a light dusting on the top of the settee, and begins to understand the man doesn’t spend very much time in his own home. Except when he’s working his night shift. Looking towards the closed door of what he presumes to be Hannibal’s room, Will walks over and puts his hand on the handle. Opening a crack, he glimpses the tossed bed, its haphazard cover indicating its occupant had been in a hurry this morning. Helping Will with his move probably disrupted the guy’s morning routine somewhat, he muses as he inches the door open enough for him to poke his head inside. The curtains are open and sunlight is pouring in through the window. The space looks different like this beneath the natural glare of the sun, as though the remnants of the night before are being bleached clean again by its brightness. His gaze falls on the rumpled pillow and the dent left by Hannibal’s head. Slipping through the door, he walks up to the bed and sits down on the edge. The four walls are bare. No photos of friends or family. No posters indicating his hobbies and interests. He drops his eyes to the bedside table. Grabs the handle as though he hasn’t been thinking about it for the past ten minutes, and pulls open the drawer.</p><p>++++</p><p>When Hannibal opens the door to the apartment, he sees a stack of empty boxes left to the side and casts an eye over the polished surfaces as he eases the door shut behind him.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>At the greeting, he looks towards the kitchen threshold to see the man stood wearing his half apron. The front of it already covered in orange smears.</p><p>“It’s ready now if you wanna eat,” he says, turning back to the hob.</p><p>Venturing into the kitchen, Hannibal unzips and takes off his jacket as the other carries two plates laden with spaghetti over to the small circular table.</p><p>“It looks good,” he says, draping the jacket over the back of a chair.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>Walking over to the sink, he washes his hands while glancing at the menagerie of dirtied knives, chopping boards, and pots and pans.</p><p>++++</p><p>“How was work?” he says after a moment of eating in silence.</p><p>“Fine,” answers Hannibal, and Will watches him winding up another mouthful of spaghetti with his fork.</p><p>“What is it you do?” he asks, doing the same with his spaghetti.</p><p>“Deliver packages,” explains Hannibal, taking the pasta into his mouth.</p><p>Will makes a noise of interest as the other chews and swallows.</p><p>“Who for this time?”</p><p>“Amazon.”</p><p>Hooded eyes look up at him from across the table.</p><p>“It’s good pay,” he says.</p><p>“As good as your other job?” says Will with a lopsided smile.</p><p>“I don’t get the same demand during the daytime,” Hannibal explains as he puts down his fork and picks up his glass of water.</p><p>Humming in thought, Will looks up at the clock on the wall behind Hannibal.</p><p>“You start at eight,” he says. In an hour’s time.</p><p>“Yes.”  </p><p>“And finish at one.”</p><p>“That’s right.”</p><p>Hannibal picks up his empty plate and begins to stand.</p><p>“I’ll do that,” says Will, standing up with his own. “You’ve got work in a bit.”</p><p>“Are you able to work from home?” the man asks.</p><p>“I haven’t checked yet, but it should be okay,” answers Will. Assuming Hannibal has a decent enough internet connection to live stream.</p><p>“Let me know if there’s anything else you might need,” he says, looking over from the threshold as Will moves to the sink with the dirty dishes and cutlery.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>After Hannibal walks out, Will busies himself washing up. It’s not long before the other is walking back in. At the sound of his footsteps, Will looks back over his shoulder.</p><p>“When I’ve started, I can’t be disturbed,” the man explains.</p><p>“Okay,” says Will, waiting until Hannibal has walked out again before returning his attention to the dishes.</p><p>After eating, Hannibal goes into his room. Probably to tidy up, thinks Will as he sits down on the settee with his laptop. The next time the door opens, Will pretends not to notice as he opens his work email. The aimless scrolling pauses, however, when he hears the sound of the shower turning on behind the bathroom door. Leaning back against the furniture, he thinks about the time Hannibal taunted him with explicit shots of his asshole. Starts to imagine soapy suds slipping between those globes followed by a finger, and feels himself beginning to harden until he’s pressing against the underside of the laptop. When the bathroom door opens, he can feel the steam, warm and damp, escaping into the shared space, and smell the fruity notes of his shower gel. He’d read it on the bottle earlier. Apple and pomegranate.</p><p>“How is it?”</p><p>Turning his head, Will looks over the settee at Hannibal walking past in his boxer shorts as he towels his hair, and is glad the other cannot see through the laptop to his butting dick.</p><p>“Fine,” he says, returning his eyes to the screen.</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>When Hannibal heads to his bedroom, Will allows his gaze to drift onto the backs of his legs and has just travelled his way up to the man’s rear when his voice makes him look up to meet those hooded eyes.</p><p>“I’m going to start work now,” he states.</p><p>“Sure,” says Will casually.</p><p>After Hannibal closes the door, however, he looks towards the open threshold of his own room. With the premise of checking the quality of the internet connection, he stands up from the settee and carries the laptop with him into the bedroom. Closing the door silently, he climbs onto the bed and sits with his back to the headboard. Returning the laptop to his lap, he scrolls back to the top of the email he hadn’t really been reading, and knits his brow with forced concentration. Instead of the words on the screen, however, Will finds himself focusing on the sounds coming through the wall connecting his room with Hannibal’s.</p><p>Setting aside the laptop, he gets on his knees and faces the wall. Planting his hands to its surface, he presses his ear to it and hears his voice coming through quiet and muffled. Suddenly thinking of the kitchen, he climbs off the bed and, slowly opening the door, slips out to fetch a glass from one of the cupboards before sneaking back. Closing the door, he makes his way back to the bed. Climbs on. And presses the glass to the wall before pressing his ear to the glass. His voice is still muffled, but he can make out his intonation better. For a while, it’s just Hannibal chatting to his members, and Will sits back down with the laptop. When it falls silent, however, he abandons the laptop to press his listening device to the wall again. After a moment, he hears the familiar sound of Hannibal pleasuring himself. Recognises the changing cadence of his voice. And although he cannot hear his breathing through the wall, he remembers it from their past sessions. Listening jealously, Will one-handedly fumbles open his trousers and untucks the rigid length of his dick before hurriedly beginning to jerk to the hushed moans resonating inside the glass. <em>That’s it</em>…</p><p>Closing his eyes, Will licks his lips as he thinks of bending Hannibal over the bath and burying his face between his asscheeks. Breathing in apple and pomegranate as he licks at his hole while the man groans helplessly. His dick trapped against the side of the bath and drooling a thread of pre-cum onto the tile as Will fucks him with his tongue. <em>You like that?</em> Yes, the man would pant. <em>You want more?</em> Please, he would answer. <em>Please what.</em> Please, daddy, Hannibal would beg. Breathless and urgent as Will pushes up against him. His cock gliding back and forth along his crack. Teasing his twitching hole with its monstrous veins. <em>What do you want, baby boy? </em>He’d hold still until Hannibal catches his breath. Letting his slick head do no more than kiss his pink pucker as it clenches in anticipation. <em>Tell me</em>. And Hannibal would do as he’s told. Asking daddy to put his huge cock inside. <em>You want me to fuck you? Is that what you want, baby boy?</em> Yes, daddy. <em>Say it</em>. And he’d pant fuck me, daddy. So obediently. So needy the way he says please. <em>Such good manners</em>. <em>Daddy’s going to make it feel so good. Are you ready? </em></p><p>
  <em>Shit, no.</em>
</p><p>Feeling himself about to come, but remembering there are no tissues in the room, Will pulls out of the fantasy.</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>Snatching the glass from the wall, he cups it over his dick just in time to catch the first spurt as he bites back a groan and arches against the headboard.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>Slumping down against the bed, he squeezes as much of the remaining come as he can from his swollen head into the glass then tucks himself back into his underwear before zipping and buckling up his trousers. Then, getting out of bed, he opens the door and steps out with the intention of crossing over to the bathroom when Hannibal’s door opens and, instead of continuing on his way, Will stops to stare at the man. Or rather, at the shape of him through the taut material of his boxers.</p><p>“I’m running low on milk,” says Hannibal.</p><p>“What?” says Will absently, meeting him in the eye. <em>Ah shit</em>. “Don’t you drink black coffee?” he asks to detract from the glass of cum in his hand. He’s rather dehydrated so he supposes it looks like a glass of milk. Kind of. Not really.</p><p>“I like milk with my cereal in the mornings.”</p><p>“Right,” says Will. “I’ll order some more in.”</p><p>With that, he moves swiftly into the kitchen while Hannibal continues on his way to the bathroom.</p><p>++++</p><p>Having finished for the night, he comes out of his room and, on his way back from fetching a glass of water from the kitchen, knocks on Will’s door to check on him. When there’s no response, he slowly opens the door. The living room light cuts through the dark, revealing the man lying on his side as he sleeps. He is about to withdraw from the room when he notices a glass of milk sitting on the floor behind the bedside table. At least he’s not using up all the tissue, Hannibal thinks to himself as he closes the door. Having said that, he considers the glass of water in his hand and, after a moment, takes it back to the kitchen.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Big Dick Problems</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  
</p><p>Will's hair in this chapter</p><p> </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Since lock down began, Will has been generous with his sleep, having no need to be getting up as early as he did when he worked from his company office. Things like his grooming regime have also fallen on the wayside since the barbers have shut. He was used to having Alberto taking care of everything as he sat in the chair having his ego groomed the same time as his hair and beard. All he had to do was walk out feeling sharp and better than your regular guy.</p><p>He probably ought to do something before he fully resembles a homeless man, and Hannibal did mention being able to cut hair. By the time the thought has crossed his mind, however, he hears the front door closing and fumbles for his phone on the bedside table. Holding it over his face, he reads 8.15am and puts it down carelessly. As it tips off the edge of the table, he suddenly remembers the glass below and scrambles to catch it. When the phone hits the edge of the glass, he scrambles to catch that, too. Luckily for the floor, the contents have dried. Unluckily for him, it’s one more thing to scrub.</p><p>Determined to live less like a disgusting human being, Will climbs out of bed and, having deposited the crusty glass in the kitchen sink, goes into the bathroom to get himself ready for the day.</p><p>Although there had been talk about people higher up in the company being furloughed, Will is fortunate enough to face the 25% pay cut instead. He couldn’t afford to keep the apartment, but moving in with Hannibal, even if he pays half the rent, will leave him enough to get by comfortably for the time being. Hell, he could even continue paying for his car, although there is talk of a payment holiday being made available soon, and that would really help things considering he went for a model that matched his ego.</p><p>Car aside, though, he will have to discuss with the guy some manner of financial arrangement because whilst he appreciates the help, relying on another’s charity really isn’t the way he prefers to conduct himself. <em>So why are you here?</em></p><p>Spitting into the sink, Will continues to watch his reflection in the mirror as he lowers the toothbrush. Wiping a white speck from his overgrown beard, he strokes idly at the rugged line of his jaw as he looks at Hannibal’s toothbrush sat in the holder.</p><p>++++</p><p>That evening, sitting at the table in the kitchen, Will finds himself being stared at as he eats. Maybe it’s his neatened appearance. Having trimmed his beard, he had also smoothed down the overgrown sides of his disconnected undercut with pomade before combing back the tresses.</p><p>Chewing more slowly, he lifts his eyes to meet that hooded gaze. You look good, he expects the man to say in the same blunt way as he’d complimented the spaghetti the night before.</p><p>“You were in my room,” he says instead.</p><p>The statement reaches his ears like an accusation, and Will lofts his brows as he thinks of a casual response.</p><p>“Is it a gift?” Hannibal continues to speak, adding when Will knits his brows, “The fleshlight.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah,” says Will, realising what the other is referring to. “Seemed like the right place to put it,” he says, thinking about the image of Colby Keller on the packaging as he forks more chilli into his mouth.</p><p>“Like a cutlery drawer?” Hannibal asks.</p><p>“You can never have too many teaspoons,” says Will.</p><p>“So it’s not a gift. You simply wish to keep it in my drawer.”</p><p>“Well-”</p><p>“There is a bedside table in your room.”</p><p>“I know there is.”</p><p>For a moment, neither says anything else as they eat their chilli, and Will keeps his eyes on his food as he tries to figure out what the man is saying. Stay out of his room? Use the fleshlight?</p><p>“It works best with plenty of lubrication,” says Hannibal when he’s finished eating.</p><p>“Makes sense,” Will utters into his glass. Taking a sip, he watches the other pick up their plates and cutlery.</p><p>“Dinner was very nice,” says Hannibal as he moves to the sink. “Thank you.”</p><p>“No problem,” says Will, watching his back and not wishing to let the expression of gratitude mark the end of their evening together. He glances at the clock on the wall. There’s still some time left.</p><p>Putting down the glass, he clears his throat. “So everyone’s been talking about the movie Outbreak on Netflix,” he begins to explain, looking over to see Hannibal turning on the tap. “It’s alright,” he interrupts himself to say, standing up from the table, “I’ve got it.”</p><p>Turning off the water, the man turns around and Will leans casually against the edge of the table.</p><p>“I’ve seen it before,” says Hannibal.</p><p>“Oh,” says Will, trying not to sound disappointed as he slips his hands into his trouser pockets. He didn’t have to change into shirt and trousers, but he did.</p><p>“It was a long time ago,” Hannibal continues to say. “I don’t remember much of it. We can put it on if you like.”</p><p>“Great,” says Will brightly. “I was about to suggest Tiger King as an alternative,” he chuckles.</p><p>“Tiger King,” the other repeats, and Will doesn’t know if the monotonous echo is supposed to mean the guy hasn’t heard of it or is mocking his suggestion.</p><p>“Not the pussies I’m used to watching, but everyone’s going on about it, so,” says Will breezily. A pause as he stands there, grinning at the other. He glances at the clock again. “Unless you wanna put something on to get you in the mood for work,” he says jokingly, pushing off the table and giving Hannibal a look as he exits the kitchen.</p><p>“Outbreak is fine,” the man says as he follows Will out.  </p><p>++++</p><p>When they pause streaming because it’s time for Hannibal to get ready for his camming shift, Will is secretly glad he doesn’t have to try and hide his erection anymore. Even though they had occupied opposing ends on the deep set settee, it was difficult not to have his mind stray from what was going on in the movie.</p><p>He ended up doing the old tuck under the belt during a brief trip to the bathroom, just so it wasn’t so damned obvious. He could have made a move. Chosen to breach the other’s personal space by sitting down next to him. But thoughts of Hannibal responding negatively made him return to his seat, and he ended up spending the remainder of their time debating whether or not to pick up from where they’d left it before Margot arrived.</p><p>And the longer he spent hesitating, the more he speculated on the possibility of the man having changed his mind, letting Will stay because he feels sorry for him. Surely he can’t be that pitiful, he muses glumly to himself as he watches the frozen loading bar on the television screen and suddenly wishes he was back at his apartment, waiting to go private. It was easier online when they had roles that allowed him to be so sure of himself. But this is different, Will thinks to himself. This is real life. And real life comes with risks. </p><p>The sound of the bathroom door opening stirs him from his bout of negativity and, picking up the remote, he pretends to sift through the recommended reel. When Hannibal walks past on his way to his room, Will can’t help turning his eyes again onto the backs of those bare legs. He watches them walk into the bedroom then returns his attention to the screen.</p><p>“Here.”</p><p>At the sound of his voice, Will looks up to see something being thrown his way. Failing to catch it, he bends down to pick up the fallen object. The door closes, but he feels a smile beginning to lift his lips as he reads the words on the side of the bottle. <em>Liquid Silk. The subtle art of making people fit together and reducing friction in relationships</em>. </p><p>++++</p><p>The box description promises a new level of intensity thanks to the ridges, bumps, swirls and nodes incorporated into the fleshlight’s design. <em>Brace yourself for a journey into the wild as this lumberjack helps you deal with your wood! </em>But as he rubs his crown with the toy’s puckered opening, all he can think about is helping Hannibal.</p><p>Leaning back against the headboard, he closes his eyes to the quiet sounds coming through the wall. <em>Rewind.</em> And goes back to the movie. <em>Play</em>. Instead of hiding his erection, he reclines against the settee until his manspread advertises what he wants. Until he sees the other sliding along the upholstery in his peripheral vision yet continues to watch the screen as though he doesn’t notice long fingers unfastening his belt and pulling down the zipper. <em>Fast forward</em>. Without preamble, Hannibal climbs naked onto his lap and Will feels hands finding his own before moving them to cup the man’s ass. Grabbing those cheeks, he kneads those globes until Hannibal exhales warmly against his ear. When he delves his middle finger between their smooth surfaces, he hears the sharp intake of breath. <em>Please, daddy</em>. Pulling them apart, he opens up his hole as Hannibal begins to sink down on his lap. He’s so impossibly small, Will grits his teeth and flexes his jaw as he struggles to breach the tight ring of his anus. <em>Push down on me, baby boy</em>.</p><p>
  <strong>He starts to push down on the toy.</strong>
</p><p><em>That’s it</em>. Moves his hands onto Hannibal’s waist to pull him down onto his dick. <em>Almost there. You’re doing so well, baby boy</em>. Biting his bottom lip, Will cinches his arms tight around that waist before rolling them over. As Hannibal lands on his back with a grunt, Will pins his legs to his chest and leans in hard until, hands darting to seek purchase on Will’s biceps, Hannibal suddenly arches against the cushions, his sharp gasp accompanying the wet squelch of Will’s cock as it slips past the choking collar of his asshole.</p><p>
  <strong>Shoving the toy down over his head, he tightens his grip on the case -</strong>
</p><p>Once in, Will loses all control as he weighs down on Hannibal-</p><p>
  <strong>- and drags the toy down to the hilt -</strong>
</p><p>-and slams his hips into him, wrenching a low groan from the man trapped beneath his increasingly aggressive thrusts. <em>You feel so good, baby boy</em>.</p><p>
  <strong>- then hurriedly fucks the sleeve onto his dick.</strong>
</p><p><em>Daddy can’t take it</em>...</p><p>He starts to buck up the same time the toy smacks into him. Imagines his balls slapping against Hannibal as lube runs from the edges of his hole stretched wide and choking on his girth. Imagines those dark eyes looking up at him helplessly as Will fucks him into the furniture. Filling him to the brim. <em>Fast forward</em>. <em>Repeat</em>.</p><p>++++</p><p>During his break following a one to one, he hears a sound coming through the wall from the room next door. Without the distracting multitude of voices, the sound is easily recognisable, especially when he has heard it many times before coming through the speakers. Lying on his back upon the cover, he thinks of those combed tresses being mussed as the man thrusts up into the fleshlight. Of blue eyes falling half drawn with lust as his lips part to his increasingly shallow breaths.</p><p>++++</p><p>With a grunt, his hand stills as he shoots into the toy, coming so hard he can feel himself pulsating against the textured walls. As he catches his breath, the silence from next door brings him back to the bedroom. <em>Session over. Bathroom break</em>. Leaving his twitching dick inside the sleeve, he picks up the box and turns it round to the how to clean instructions. Reads the words: Clean immediately after use. <em>Great</em>.  </p><p>++++</p><p>The alarm goes off on his phone and Will gropes for it before opening an eye at the screen. 7am. He taps snooze and chucks it onto the cover before rolling over on his side.</p><p>When he opens the door, he finds the living space awash with sunlight and turns his squinting eyes to the source. The curtains are drawn back from the windows. Beneath them, Hannibal is doing a plank on the hard wood floor in a vest and his boxer shorts. His eyes are closed in concentration and even though his back is perfectly straight, Will can’t help staring at the subtle lines of his-</p><p>“You’re up.”</p><p>“No I’m not,” says Will, meeting that hooded gaze before it gives him a onceover. He glances down his own body and adds, “Big dick problems.”</p><p>“I mean you’re awake.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>Clearing his throat, Will folds his arms and leans against the doorframe.</p><p>“Morning workout?” he says casually.</p><p>“Yes,” Hannibal answers, facing forward.</p><p>“What time you on?”</p><p>“A minute.”</p><p>“That it?”</p><p>“I’ve just started.”</p><p>Will hums, unfolding his arms to press his hands to the doorframe on either side of him.</p><p>“I’m more an arms guy,” he says.</p><p>“How many push ups can you do?”</p><p>“Thirty, probably.”</p><p>“That’s average.”</p><p>“Yeah? Well how many can you do?”</p><p>“More than thirty.”</p><p>“Right,” Will scoffs, folding his arms. “Prove it.”</p><p>“You prove it,” says Hannibal mildly.</p><p>“Alright,” says Will lightly, strolling closer. Lowering onto the floor, he gets into position. Waits for the other to do the same. “Try to keep up,” he smirks.</p><p>++++</p><p>Sitting up, he watches Hannibal walk towards the bathroom. His shorts and vest clinging to him with sweat. He was showing off, that much was obvious, but the guy kept up with him for a good while. By the time it became a challenge, Will tried not to lose his rhythm listening to their grunts of exertion and heavy panting. Inevitably, though, he started to become aroused and finally stopped because he was starting to butt the floor.</p><p>“Try to keep up,” Hannibal had said as he got up onto his feet, and Will had looked up to see that small self-satisfied smile before the man started strolling away. He came very close, then, to tackling those long, lean legs, and maybe would’ve done if he hadn’t been so mindful of the time.    </p><p>The bathroom door opens and Will looks over to see Hannibal leaning out. Even from across the room, he can make out the sweat in his chest hair.</p><p>“Put this in the sun to dry,” he says, and Will realises the other is holding his lumberjack fleshlight. “There’s too many spaces for bacteria to grow.”</p><p>“Sexy,” Will utters with a grimace as he picks himself off the floor. As Hannibal makes to throw it, his hands dart up as he cries, “Whoa! Do you know how much that thing cost?”</p><p>“Yes,” says the man. “I delivered it.”</p><p>“So you admit it,” says Will lowly as he folds his arms and arches an eyebrow.</p><p>Hannibal tilts his head as though to say <em>no comprendo</em>.</p><p>“That you gave me Colby Keller when I asked for Alana Bloom,” Will continues to say.</p><p>“Do women not have assholes?” says Hannibal with a blink.</p><p>Will opens his mouth.</p><p>“You don’t have to think about Colby Keller,” says the other with a lofting of his invisible eyebrows.</p><p>
  <em>You little-</em>
</p><p>Before he can retort, Hannibal does an underhand throw. Snatching a breath through his nose, Will lunges forward and catches the toy just as the bathroom door closes.</p><p>++++</p><p>“For the record,” the man can be heard announcing through the door. “I was not thinking about Colby Keller!”</p><p>Smiling to himself, he turns on the shower.</p><p>++++</p><p>That evening, Will is feeling upbeat as he cooks. Their shenanigans that morning had left him in a good mood that lasted long after he’d eaten breakfast, done some work for the company, and gone out for a run. He hadn’t minded his own company because he knew what time Hannibal would be coming back. Like the night before, he combed back his overgrown forelock and sides. Put on a nice shirt and trousers after locating the man’s ironing board. Put on a splash of <em>Sauvage </em>because why not, even if the sandalwood and leather notes did get a bit lost beneath the more pungent spices of the fajita mix.</p><p>When the man appeared through the door, Will greeted him with a smooth kind of confidence that signalled the return of his self-assuredness. He even opened a bottle of red after getting permission from Hannibal. Most would consider fajitas a messy meal, and likely a poor choice to be paired with wine, but for Will, there’s also a degree of sexiness that ought to be accredited to the hands-on dish.</p><p>“I’m going to swap shifts with a colleague,” says Hannibal.</p><p>“Yeah?” says Will, taking a sip of his wine before reaching for his wrap.</p><p>“I’ve been asked to star in a video.”</p><p>“A video,” Will repeats, pausing with his fingers on the fajita as he watches the other taking a bite before chewing and swallowing.</p><p>“A porno,” says Hannibal, taking a second bite.</p><p>“Oh yeah?”</p><p>Leaving the plate, Will picks up his glass.</p><p>“What kind?” he asks, lifting the wine to his lips.</p><p>“Gay.”</p><p>He continues watching Hannibal eat.</p><p>When those hooded eyes begin to look up, Will looks down at his plate. Puts down the glass and picks up his fajita. Takes a bite. An awkward stretch of silence passes until Hannibal finishes eating.</p><p>“That was nice,” he says quietly.</p><p>“How much are they paying you?” Will asks, looking up.</p><p>“A good amount,” says Hannibal.</p><p>Eyes on the other’s plate, Will puts the last morsel into his mouth and chews thoughtfully with knitted brows.</p><p>“I can give you it,” he eventually says, straightening up and reaching for his glass.</p><p>When there’s no response, he glances across the table at that impassive countenance.</p><p>“Whatever they’re paying,” he adds, tipping the wine into his mouth.</p><p>Hannibal watches him and Will holds his dark gaze as the clock ticks and water drips from the tap and hits the sink.</p><p>“Alright,” the man finally says, and Will drains his glass as the other stands and collects their dirty plates.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Rec</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter intended to be read to the vibes of Try Me by The Weeknd. A lyric only version can be found: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SR2EdniKEE</p><p><strong>DaianeRobertaM1</strong> this is dedicated to you for suggesting the song!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Taking the wine with him, Will walks out into the living space and sits down on the settee. Pouring himself another glass, he takes a sip, feigning disinterest as Hannibal ventures out of the kitchen.</p><p>“If you tell me your bank details, I can transfer you the amount,” he says, putting down the glass and picking up his laptop. As he signs in, he senses the man sitting down on the other end of the settee.</p><p>“There’s no rush if you have a use for the money,” says Hannibal.</p><p>“I’ve used a good portion of it on you already,” Will scoffs quietly.</p><p>“Doesn’t mean you have to continue.”</p><p>“Just tell me your bank details.”</p><p>“Don’t you want to know how much first?”</p><p>At the question, Will picks up his glass.</p><p>“Alright,” he utters into it. “How much.”</p><p>Hannibal tells him and Will feels his face pinching.</p><p>“Fuck would you be doing for that amount?” he exclaims, frowning at the other.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” says Hannibal calmly as he turns on the television. “I won’t be doing it.”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Will mutters in a disgruntled voice, eyes returning to the laptop screen, “you could be making this up for all I know.”</p><p>“If you don’t believe me, why are you offering to pay.”</p><p>“I don’t know,” drawls Will casually, “maybe you’re just too persuasive.”</p><p>From the corners of his eyes, he sees Hannibal putting the remote down on the coffee table.</p><p>“Then why haven’t you paid me yet for sex,” says the man evenly as he stands from the settee. “Seeing as all I’m interested in is persuading you to part with your money.”</p><p>“Look,” Will begins to exhale, but Hannibal is already walking to his room. In a quieter voice, he says after the other, “Can you just tell me your bank-”</p><p>But the door closes before he can finish and, closing the laptop, he reaches for the bottle and tops up his glass before sagging against the settee.</p><p>++++</p><p>Having finished the bottle of wine and nodded off on the settee, he didn’t see the man again for the rest of the night. By the time he had stirred, it was early morning. After dragging himself to bed and falling back to sleep, he wakes up a few hours later. Comes out of his room to find he has woken up in time to join Hannibal’s workout just as the other is about to begin. As Will lowers himself to the floor beside him, Hannibal continues his routine without acknowledging Will’s company.</p><p>Half collapsing against the floor, he catches his breath after his fortieth push up, hoping to have impressed the other with his improved performance.</p><p>“How would you feel about filming a porno,” pants Hannibal.</p><p>At the unexpected comment, Will turns his head to look at the man lying similarly on his front catching his breath. Tries not to make it obvious that he’s enjoying the sight of his vest and tiny boxer shorts clinging to him with sweat.</p><p>“With women?” he asks, folding his arms against the ground.</p><p>“With me,” says Hannibal, looking his way. His lips parted to his recovering breaths. “You wouldn’t have to pay me then,” he adds as he pulls himself up into a sit.</p><p>Doing the same, Will runs a hand through his hair as he utters somewhat sheepishly, “I don’t mind paying.”</p><p>“It can be profitable, if we get enough views,” the man continues to say, resting an arm atop the leg he has drawn up against his chest. “You can remain anonymous.”</p><p>“How,” says Will, leaning back on his hands as he watches that mild profile to avoid his eyes straying.</p><p>“We can shoot it from the point of view of the cameraman,” states Hannibal.</p><p>“Like a GoPro?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“So we don’t need a cameraman,” says Will.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Humming casually, he pretends to be thinking the idea over despite the part of him that is already stirring at the prospect.</p><p>“What’s the premise?” he asks curiously. Every porno has a premise, no matter how basic.</p><p>“Straight housemates forced to seek sexual relief with one another during lock down,” says Hannibal as he gets up onto his feet.</p><p>“Plausible,” says Will with a lofting of his brows. <em>Goddamn</em>.</p><p>“If you are serious, I will drop an hour in my morning shift to film.”</p><p>Lifting his eyes to that hooded gaze, Will licks his lips and lets them hang agape for a moment before answering.</p><p>“I am,” he says eventually without looking away.</p><p>++++</p><p>While Hannibal showered and got ready for work, Will sipped thoughtfully at his coffee. In his anticipatory excitement, he had returned to his room to beat one out using the fleshlight, and though he knows he’s supposed to clean it straight after, he left it on the bedside table before venturing back out to put the kettle on. His hand spooned coffee granules into the mug on autopilot as his mind busied itself with thoughts of shooting a homemade porno. The concept itself isn’t new to him. He’d almost done it before a few times, with different girls.</p><p>“So do we do practise runs first or just dive straight into it?” he asks, leaning casually against the wall with his arms folded as he watches Hannibal pull on his red jacket.</p><p>“If you’d feel more confident practising first, we can,” he answers, meeting Will’s gaze as he zips up.</p><p>“Nah,” says Will with a dismissive frown. <em>Feel more confident? Yeah right</em>. “I’m good,” he adds, draining his coffee and catching the other looking at him over the rim. “What?” he utters, lowering the mug.</p><p>“Nothing,” says Hannibal as he opens the door. “You might want to think of some scenarios you’d be comfortable with.”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Will continues to loft his brows at the other until the man walks out into the corridor and closes the door behind him.</p><p>
  <em>Think of some scenarios, he says.</em>
</p><p>He scoffs to himself as he walks into the kitchen and puts the mug in the sink.</p><p>
  <em>I can do that.</em>
</p><p>++++</p><p>When Hannibal comes back from work, he goes into the kitchen where Will is plating up. They eat, talking about the hour Hannibal has managed to drop from his shift starting from tomorrow morning, and what they will likely be able to fill it with. The idea is to keep the porno short enough so it doesn’t drag, but long enough to be satisfying. Will shares his ideas with Hannibal who listens without protest, and by the time they finish eating, they know what their first video is going to entail.</p><p>After dinner, they sit in the living space, examining the new GoPro Hannibal brought back from work. There should be enough sunlight coming through the window in the kitchen without the need for additional lighting, the man says. When he goes to do his cam shift, Will continues to play with the camera. He takes it into his room and takes a video of himself jerking off. When he plays it back to himself, he smiles at the crystal clear footage and is pleased with how his dick looks on screen. Now he just needs Hannibal.</p><p>When the other finishes his shift, Will catches him venturing out of his room and brings up the fact that he’s been testing the camera. Instead of asking to see the videos, however, Hannibal merely says “good” before heading towards the kitchen, leaving Will quietly clearing his throat and swallowing his mildly stung ego. As he passes Will’s room, the man comments on his fleshlight and Will finally puts the camera down to deal with the used and abused toy. Upon picking it up, he discovers a pool of ejaculate forming where the contents of the inner sleeve is trickling back out of the puckered opening, and immediately stores the image in the back of his mind for later.</p><p>Lying in his bed after setting his alarm, Will can barely sleep as he goes through in his mind the video they will be shooting in the morning. It excites him, of course, just the thought of it, coupled with the hushed sound of Hannibal’s voice travelling through the wall like some sexy lullaby. But he decides to give the fleshlight a break and save himself for the filming. Besides, he thinks to himself with a sleepy, lopsided smile, <em>it won’t feel anywhere as good after tomorrow</em>.</p><p>++++<br/>
<br/>
<strong><em>Recording started</em></strong></p><p>Sat at the kitchen table, Will pauses eating his cereal to glance down at his lap. He slips a hand down to tug at the taut fabric of his boxers, easing some of the pressure on his trapped arousal. The sound of running water makes him look up at Hannibal stood with his back to him at the sink as he washes up. Exhaling, he looks down again at the huge tenting in his underwear and, quietly putting down his spoon, sticks his hand past the waistband. He breathes a sigh as he frees himself. Every throbbing inch of him stark in the morning light.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“Sh-”    </p><p>Looking up, Will sees Hannibal watching him over his shoulder. His hands submerged in bubbles. His face a frown of disgust.</p><p>“Sorry,” he begins to say. “I’m just so fucking horny since lock down started.”</p><p>“It’s disgusting. Put it away,” says Hannibal, turning back to the dishes.</p><p>“Yeah, alright,” Will utters, watching the back of the other’s head before returning his attention to his cock which he slowly begins to stroke with the circle of his hand. “Mn,” he murmurs softly as he starts to ooze a clear bead of pre-ejaculate.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>Hannibal’s voice is loud and stern. It makes him and his dick both jump. The sound of his approaching footsteps makes Will look up to see the man standing in front of him with his hands on his hips.</p><p>“Put it away or I’ll do it myself,” he says, invisible brows knitting together in disapproval as he stares down at him.</p><p>“Yeah?” Will utters. “You gonna put it away?”</p><p>The furrow deepens in Hannibal’s brow.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” he says.</p><p>“I’ll pay for the next food shop,” Will explains, watching that confused expression. “If you suck my dick.”</p><p>Hannibal starts to turn away but Will catches his wrist and looks up at those hooded eyes.</p><p>“I know you can’t afford it on your own,” he says lowly. “It’s not like anyone will find out,” he adds, voice soft and encouraging.</p><p>As the man hesitates, Will slowly pulls his hand by the wrist onto his dick. Watches the way he glides, thick and heavily veined, against those long fingers. The first ever touch of their calloused pads making his head weep.</p><p>“We can stop if you don’t like it,” he murmurs, glancing up to see that troubled countenance regarding his cock as he debates within himself.</p><p>“You won’t tell anyone,” Hannibal finally says in a quiet voice, looking up at him still unsure.</p><p>“Not a soul,” Will half purrs as the other takes back his hand. Leaning back, Will slides further down the chair and spreads his thighs before fisting himself at the base. As Hannibal lowers himself hesitantly onto his knees in front of him, Will can’t help letting slip a curse at the sight.</p><p>++++</p><p>Resting his hands atop the man’s thighs, he leans in and pauses an inch away from the head. Engorged and flushed an angry pink, it leaks a thin rivulet of pre-cum from the eye as it twitches impatiently at him. Exhaling in defeat, he parts his lips and – looking up to meet those half drawn blue eyes, the mouth agape with anticipation – slips his tongue out.<br/>
<br/>
++++</p><p>If the sight of that mouth opening to tease him isn’t enough, Will now has to somehow prevent himself from coming prematurely from the stroke of his tongue against his frenulum. <em>Fuck</em>. Jaw setting, his breathing deepens as he moves a hand to cup Hannibal’s jaw, his thumb tucking past the uneven edge of his bottom teeth and pressing down to open his mouth further. Eyes watching him, Hannibal lets himself be directed by the gesture and Will can do nothing but hold his breath as he watches himself being swallowed inch by inch. A breathy groan escapes his lips at the sensation – so hot and wet – and the sight of that mouth being stretched to the max around his girth.</p><p>“That’s it,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers through those light tresses as he holds on to Hannibal’s head with both hands, keeping him down as he starts to half thrust up against the tongue mapping the underside of his shaft. But even that small a movement is enough to force a muffled sound of choking from the man as Will butts against the back of his throat. “Too much?” he utters, watching down at that pained expression. He takes a deep breath. “I’ll add your favourite drink onto the shop if you let me skull fuck you,” he breathes. The frown deepens in Hannibal’s brow. “Two bottles,” he adds hurriedly with a lick of his lips, “and the best steak they have.” Hooded eyes close. “Is that a yes?” Hannibal makes a muffled noise of acquiescing, the vibrations of his voice whipping Will’s hips into overdrive, and he feels himself throb in excitement at what’s to come.</p><p>++++</p><p>“Alright, then.”</p><p>The man has barely finished uttering the words when Hannibal feels those fingers snatching tight on his hair, stopping him from moving as Will pushes off the chair. Without any time to adjust, Hannibal feels the heavy weight of him pulling suddenly out of his mouth. Is just about to inhale when Will rams his cock back in, the force with which he slams into his throat making Hannibal choke. Despite this, and as though spurred by the very sound itself, Will tightens his grip on his hair and starts to fuck his mouth in earnest.</p><p>“Fuck,” he pants as Hannibal alternates between gulping down the build-up of saliva and quick snatches of air. His eyes wet and squinting under the onslaught of the other’s pummelling hips as he holds that lidded blue gaze while struggling to breathe and swallow.   </p><p>++++</p><p>
  <em>Shit, I’m going to come. </em>
</p><p>Slowly, inch by inch, he pulls his spit slick length out of Hannibal’s mouth, heart hammering in his chest as he tries to hold back the flood. But the sight of the man down on his knees, red lipped and eyes brimming with tears, is surely enough to tip him over the edge. Just before his head leaves the edges of his teeth, Will thrusts his whole length back inside. Holds and pushes Hannibal’s head down to his balls the same time his dick rams into his throat. Amidst the sound of his choking, Will does it again. Withdrawing slow. Then slamming back in. And again. And again. Gradually getting faster.</p><p>++++</p><p>Although he has experience giving head to a dildo, it had always been at his own pace. No amount of practise could have prepared him for this. And he has never skull fucked a female in a porno like this before. He would’ve been afraid of hurting them. Especially with a dick as big as this. When he feels it beginning to thicken even further, he starts to consider using the tap out they had agreed on before he grows light headed. Then, Will pulls out abruptly.</p><p>++++</p><p>Just as Hannibal takes a much needed breath, Will hurriedly tugs himself to the finish. With a roaring groan, he feels himself exploding and watches hooded eyes snapping shut from the lashings of come landing thick and fast over his cheekbones, his hair. His parted lips. Even the bridge of his nose. If he had any more in him, he would’ve come twice from the glorious portrait he’s managed to paint with his dick.</p><p>“Fuck,” he utters breathlessly as Hannibal opens an eye at him while the other remains closed against a glob of semen slipping down from the wet spike of his hair.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>End recording</em> </strong>
</p><p>++++</p><p>“Sorry,” says Will, taking off the GoPro as he watches Hannibal standing up and moving to the sink. <em>I’ve blinded him</em>. “I know we hadn’t agreed on the facial-”</p><p>“It’s fine,” he says over the sound of running water.</p><p><em>His voice</em>, Will notes privately as he tucks his wilting dick back into his boxers.<em> I did that. With my cock. </em>As the smile begins, he presses his lips together to suppress it. Then Hannibal turns around from the sink and Will folds his arms and lifts a fist to his lips as though to stifle the laughter threatening to escape. He clears his throat.</p><p>“You got a bit of...” he utters lowly, pointing at his own hair. The man reaches up, a faint frown appearing on his face as he feels the cum-matted tresses. “At least you haven’t got long hair,” says Will brightly. With short tresses like those, the guy can’t get mad at him like women have in the past, he thinks amusedly to himself.</p><p>Hooded eyes glance towards the clock on the wall and Will follows his line of sight.</p><p>“We stuck to the time,” he says, unable to help looking over at the other’s hair stuck together with his semen.</p><p>“We did,” says Hannibal as he starts to walk out of the kitchen. As he passes, Will’s attention falls to the front of his shorts, and his hand darts out on its own to catch the other’s wrist. Pausing, Hannibal looks back at him, and Will is reminded they are no longer in a scripted scenario.</p><p>Yet, despite this.</p><p>“Do you want me to get that for you…?” he asks quietly, glancing pointedly at the man’s arousal before lifting his eyes again to meet that dark gaze before it flickers down to Will’s hand on his wrist. Then up again.</p><p>“Maybe next time,” he answers, and Will lets go to fold his arms.</p><p>“Sure thing,” he says with a smile as the other continues on his way out.</p><p>
  <em>Maybe next time.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Professionals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter intended to be read to the Haarp Remix of Professional by The Weeknd which can be found:<br/>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AvfCGDfewts</p><p><strong>DaianeRobertaM1</strong> this is dedicated to you for suggesting the song!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When he hears Hannibal coming in, Will suddenly has a vision of himself yanking off the half apron and striding out to pin the man against the front door. His nose burying in that soft hair as he presses his chest against the other’s, making it clear with the rising of his ribcage that he is scenting him. <em>Do you still smell of me? Has it lingered all day as you worked? Did it make you think of what we’d been doing this morning? Did you get aroused?</em></p><p>Instead, he looks over his shoulder to see him walking in unzipping his red jacket.</p><p>“Hey,” he says, turning back to the pan and sliding the turner under the patty. “How was work?”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>
  <em>Did you think of me?</em>
</p><p>“I think I’ve got an idea for the next one,” he says, slipping the burger onto the bread bun.</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>At the curious sound of his voice, Will looks back at Hannibal with a crafty grin.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>++++</p><p>Sitting on the settee with a beer, Will sees the other lifting his can to his lips every now and then as the movie continues to stream. Hooded eyes remain on the screen as he watches the man from the corners of his own. Much like his response to Will’s first idea for their video, Hannibal had been cooperative. Relatively keen, Will would probably say, if not exactly eager. But the more he gets used to that impassive expression, the more he starts to think nothing really fazes the man, and that anything more heightened is created for practical purposes only. Which is fine. It’s his job, after all. But what about Will? Some random guy he’s shacked up with who can foot half the rent and star in potentially lucrative pornos with – when they make enough and start uploading. They don’t go private anymore over a hosting website. He is no longer the other’s <em>job</em>. More like a co-worker, actually, if they continue to film. And maybe shacked up is the wrong term. It’s used for lovers, not whatever this is.</p><p>It’s true he had almost kissed the man in his apartment after reading encouragement as opposed to rejection in that hand grabbing his tee. But that was before Hannibal found out about the pregnancy and gave the impression he didn’t want to go down that route anymore. Like he disapproved of Will’s behaviour. Well. How is asking a father-to-be to partake in a porno any less inappropriate? <em>Consider yourselves co-workers. Keeping it professional. That’s how</em>.</p><p>“You don’t like this movie?”</p><p>“Hm?” says Will, stirring himself and looking over.</p><p>“You’ve been staring at the coffee table.”</p><p>“Have I?”</p><p>Under that dark gaze, his hand moves up to run his fingers self-consciously through his hair.</p><p>“You can change it if you like,” says Hannibal, and Will knows it’s almost time for him to start his cam shift.</p><p>“It’s fine,” he smiles, turning his eyes back on the screen and lifting the can to his lips.</p><p>++++</p><p>
  <em>I’m not paying you to be my fucking wife.</em>
</p><p>His jaw flexes at the memory of their last private session together. Watching the search bar on the screen, he wonders what would happen if he logged in now. Found Hannibal. And chose to go private. Would he come out of his room and open the door to Will’s? An uncomprehending frown on his face. <em>What are you doing?</em>  Glancing over at the closed door, Will imagines looking back coolly to mask the disappointment. </p><p>
  <em>So just give me what I came for.</em>
</p><p>Leaning his head back, he runs his hands over his face and drops them back onto the laptop. Opens the page on the male prostate again even though he’d stared at it all day while the other was at work. Lifts his hand and curls two fingers towards himself. Same as finding a woman’s G-spot. Easy. Or is it? Brow knitting, he recalls his past sessions with girls. All of them had seemed pleased with what he was doing, but he never actually knew himself whether he was hitting it. He re-reads the sentence on the webpage: <em>feels like a rounded bulb of tissue, similar to the tip of your nose</em>. He touches the end of his nose. So, <em>that</em>, but inside him. <em>Okay, then</em>. Hannibal never suggested a practise run first, but what’s the worst that can happen, he thinks to himself. <em>I don’t find it</em>. Well, he can think up an alternative scenario, just in case it doesn’t work.</p><p>++++</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Recording started</em> </strong>
</p><p>Sat at the kitchen table, Will pauses eating his cereal to glance over at Hannibal stood with his back to him at the sink.</p><p>“You ever made a girl squirt?” he asks.</p><p>“Why do you ask,” says Hannibal as he lifts a clean plate from the sink and sticks it on the dish rack.</p><p>“Just curious,” says Will. He picks up the bowl and spoons more cereal into his mouth. Crunches as he watches the other’s back. Swallowing, he adds, “Do you think someone could make you come without touching your dick?”</p><p>“Don’t know. Never tried.”</p><p>“You want to?” Will asks, voice mischievous as it drops an octave.</p><p>“Not really,” answers Hannibal as he slots another clean dish into the rack.</p><p>“How about we make a bet?”</p><p>“What kind of a bet.”</p><p>“If I can make you come without touching your dick, you owe me another blowie.”</p><p>Hannibal rests his arms against the edge of the sink. He turns his face to the side.</p><p>“And if you don’t?” he asks, watching Will from the corners of his eyes.</p><p>“Then I owe you a blowie,” says Will simply.</p><p>There is a pause as the other considers the wager. After a moment, he faces the front again as he dries his hands on a kitchen towel.</p><p>“Alright,” he says.</p><p>“Al-<em>right</em>,” Will echoes under his breath as he stands up from the table and walks towards Hannibal.</p><p>++++</p><p>He keeps his hands on the edge of the sink as the other tucks his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and slowly pulls them down. He feels them being abandoned under the curve of his ass before fingers grab and spread open his cheeks. The hot puff of Will’s exhale makes him clench instinctively, but it’s the wet stroke of the man’s tongue around his entrance that makes him hold on to the sink. He breathes out audibly, his back beginning to arch downwards as he feels himself hardening rapidly from the sensation until he’s pressing against the cupboard.</p><p>++++</p><p>Enjoying the sight of those hips lifting, Will pins those cheeks open as he spits generously at that hole before rubbing the length of his middle finger back and forth over it. Feeling Hannibal twitch beneath his strokes.</p><p>
  <em>Goddamn…</em>
</p><p>“I’m putting one in,” he announces before spitting again at that pink pucker and, holding back his cheeks with one hand to keep the man exposed, he moves the pad of his middle finger on his other hand in tiny circles against his opening. Lets it wink moistly at him the once before feeding it his digit.    </p><p>++++  </p><p>He lets a low sound of discomfort escape the line of his lips as he feels Will pushing into him to the last knuckle, too driven by his own enthusiasm and curiosity to take it slow as they had originally agreed upon.</p><p>“Fuck,” he hears the man say in disbelief behind him, “your ass just swallowed it whole.”</p><p>Exhaling patiently, Hannibal folds his arms upon the edge of the sink and bears down, maintaining the arch in his back as he allows himself time to grow accustomed to the sensation. Before he can, however, he feels the blunt tip of a second finger prying at the edge of his entrance. Taking a breath, he closes his eyes as it forces its way without warning past the constricting ring of his anus. Feels the stretch as it slides up against the other digit inside him.</p><p>++++</p><p>
  <em>Shit. Did he not prep beforehand?</em>
</p><p>The tight clutch of Hannibal’s walls makes him swallow compulsively.</p><p>
  <em>Keep it together. We’ve barely started.</em>
</p><p>“God, you’re small,” he murmurs, pulling out completely to spit another glob of saliva at that barely worked hole before pushing back in with an obscene squelch. As he glides up that silken passage, he bends his knuckles slightly in search of Hannibal’s prostate, and soon manages to brush against something. Confirmation of him having successfully located the gland is signalled by the soft intake of breath coinciding with a sudden and reflexive tightening around his fingers. And Will feels his dick intercepting the signal to strain harder against his boxers.</p><p>“Yeah?” he utters lowly, staring at that asshole choking on his two digits. “That it?” He pulls out by a couple of inches. Shoves them back in.</p><p>++++</p><p>“Y-yes,” Hannibal exhales raggedly from the sudden burst of pressure, his head lowering to the sink as he closes his eyes. Reaching back with a hand, he fumbles blindly for the other’s wrist. Wraps his fingers around the appendage when he finds it. Giving the sign. <em>Slowly</em>.</p><p>++++</p><p>Spurred by the signal, he pulls out his fingers and looks towards the kitchen table. Striding over, he picks up the nearest chair. Hauls it over and puts it down beside Hannibal, the wooden back smacking against the cupboard door with his haste. Then, grabbing the man’s shoulder, he turns Hannibal around to face him. Looks down as he wrestles those tiny shorts off the other’s erection. His thumb pressing against a wet patch of pre-ejaculate in the fabric. The sight of his jutting dick is all the encouragement Will needs to put his hand on Hannibal’s left thigh.</p><p>“Put your foot on the chair,” he instructs.</p><p>++++</p><p>Without looking away from those blue eyes – or rather, the camera lens – he complies. Lifting and opening his leg out to the side as he props his foot on the seat of the chair. Under that stare, he leans back on his arms against the sink. Can see, without looking directly at it, Will’s excitement marking the front of his underwear.</p><p>He feels a hand grabbing his balls and twitches involuntarily as it pins them up against his body, out of the way. Watches those returning curls dipping as Will spits generously on him before spearing his fore and middle fingers back inside. Lips pressing together to stifle a sound of discomfort, Hannibal doesn’t reach yet for Will’s wrist. If he has remembered correctly, the other should be starting slow then steadily building in pace.</p><p>++++</p><p>The hot grip of Hannibal’s body on his fingers, combined with the sight of him arching back against the sink as his hands hold on to the edge of the kitchen surface, makes Will impatient. With a wet squelch, he pushes in to the last knuckle. Curls his fingers to press their tips firmly against that spot until he sees that calm countenance pinching and narrow lips beginning to part. Licking his own, Will leaves his mouth agape to his own excited breaths as the anticipation beats hard in his chest and between his legs. According to the script, he is supposed to ask if Hannibal is ready. Instead, he lifts the tip of his tongue. Presses it to the upper edge of his teeth while hooded eyes watch. And starts vigorously shaking his hand.       </p><p>++++</p><p>“A-ah!”</p><p>Crying out in surprise, his hands slip against the edge before snatching tight again. The vibrations of Will’s hand – of those fingers – sending deep, pleasurable waves rolling through him. Each one peaking higher than the last. Defenceless against them, he arches harder against the sink as his chest rises and falls. When the other had explained he would pleasure him with his fingers, Hannibal hadn’t pictured him doing it like this. He needs to grab Will’s wrist. Slow him down.</p><p>“S-stop,” he pants as the pre-cum starts to flow beyond his control.</p><p>“Are you going to come?” the man utters huskily through his teeth. His hand continuing to thrash up and down. In and out. Fucking him now with his fingers while stimulating his prostate with its coarse and unrelenting vibrations. Shutting his eyes and swallowing at the taunt, Hannibal licks his dry lips. Before he can respond to the taunt, however, Will suddenly doubles his efforts.</p><p>“Ah!”</p><p>++++</p><p>
  <em>Come.</em>
</p><p>Biting onto his bottom lip hard enough to bruise, he fixates on that helpless expression – on the fluttering of fair lashes – as, further down his body, he witnesses the visible thickening of Hannibal’s cock.</p><p>
  <em>Come for me.</em>
</p><p>Clear fluid continues to stream from that twitching head until, with a pained shout, loud and abrupt, Hannibal bends back even further, barely able to keep his eyes open under the force of his own ejaculation. The muscles in his abdomen tensing visibly as he convulses from the spurts – each one landing heavy and wet across his trembling skin. Getting caught in chest hair already damp with sweat.</p><p>++++</p><p>He has barely come down from his climax when he feels hands grabbing his wrists to pull him off the sink. Half stumbling from the chair, he falls down onto his knees upon the hard kitchen floor. Feels fingers sinking into the hair at the top of his head and finds himself bumping face first against that trapped arousal before those digits snatch tight to tug him back enough for that huge cock to be freed. He sees fingers circling the thick base as Will holds himself and proceeds to smack the heavy weight of his dick against Hannibal’s parting lips. Feels the large head smearing them with pre-cum before butting impatiently against his teeth. When he lifts his eyes, he sees Will staring down at him like a thing possessed. Blue eyes glazed with lust as he mouth hangs open to his hurried breaths.</p><p>“You lose,” he hears the pant before the man forces himself past his teeth.  </p><p>++++</p><p>Hannibal hadn’t said much afterwards. Will had watched him picking himself up – a little slower than last time – before filling a glass of water at the sink. To wash him down with, Will had assumed. He hadn’t gone for the facial this time. And was glad because, as satisfying as it is to mark the man, it had felt amazing coming inside his throat. As the other stood there, gulping water, Will had pretended to apologise for having changed a couple of things during the video. His eyes on that bopping Adam’s apple. When he’d drained the glass, Hannibal told him it was fine, in that way he often does, before walking out of the kitchen.  Maybe he is too embarrassed to admit he’d been surprised, Will had thought to himself as he stood there, wafting the front of his damp tee. <em>I mean, if he’s unhappy about it, he’d just say, right? </em>He starts to walk out of the kitchen and across the living space.<em> He’s probably just dizzy. </em>Stops outside the bathroom door. <em>Guy did just come hands-free before being brutally skull-fucked. </em>Doesn’t hear the sound of jetting water. <em>Was I too rough?</em> Lifting a hand, he knocks on the door.</p><p>“Yes?” he hears Hannibal answering on the other side.</p><p>“You alright?”</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>He steps back, itching his chest through the tee. Leans in again.</p><p>“Sure?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>The shower comes on, preventing any further conversing.</p><p>++++</p><p>“I think you should fuck me in the ass.”</p><p>The fork pauses on its way to Will’s mouth which hangs agape as he watches the other across the table. Hooded eyes look up from the plate.</p><p>“It’s the next logical step,” he explains before returning his attention to the food.</p><p>“Right,” Will laughs quietly, pretending his dick hadn’t reared its head like a dog hearing its owner rustling the treats bag.</p><p>“Are you going to be okay with that?”</p><p>“Course,” he says frowningly, glancing up. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve told you I’ve done ass before.”</p><p>Although the other regards him like he always does, Will can’t relax under the scrutiny.</p><p>“You think I’m gonna chicken out because it’s yours?” he drawls while cutting another piece off his steak. <em>Shit…</em> “Just make sure you prep beforehand,” he continues to say casually, forking the sliver and popping it into his mouth.</p><p>He feels those eyes watching him and looks up as he chews.</p><p>“What?” he says after swallowing.</p><p>“How many times have you had anal sex?” Hannibal asks.</p><p>“Twice,” he answers.</p><p>“Different people?”</p><p>“Same person.”</p><p>“A partner?”</p><p>“Does it matter?”</p><p>Picking up his wine, he takes a sip from the glass before adding drily:</p><p>“It was with Margot, mother of my unborn child, and yes, I used a condom each time because she wanted me to. What about you?”</p><p>The man tilts his head and Will would be tempted to say it makes him look fucking adorable if not for his sudden apprehension at the thought of Hannibal answering unexpectedly. <em>More times than you</em>. <em>Different people each time. None of them ever used a condom</em>.  </p><p>“Once,” the man answers eventually without looking at him, and Will is instantly curious.</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Does it matter?”</p><p>“A woman?”</p><p>No response.</p><p>“A man?”</p><p>“I have never had sexual intercourse with a man.”</p><p>“Never.”</p><p>“You sound surprised.”</p><p>Dark eyes look up and Will blinks innocently before taking another sip of his wine.</p><p>“Just curious,” he utters with a shrug. <em>Shit</em>.</p><p>“I’m clean, but it’s good practice to wear a condom. Having said that, I’m aware of the added appeal in barebacking.”</p><p>Will hums, not really listening. <em>Shit</em>.</p><p>“Although I would request we both be tested first. They can be ordered online now due to the virus.”</p><p><em>He’s a fucking virgin</em>. <em>No. A gay virgin</em>. <em>Virgin ass</em>. <em>Nothing’s been up there barring that motherfucking dildo</em> <em>from the porno and the last time we went private. You felt him struggling from just two of your fingers. Imagine that…but around your <strong>dick</strong>… </em> </p><p>“If you’re not comfortable with the idea, you can say.”</p><p>“Hm?” says Will, stirring from his thoughts to find the other watching him.</p><p>“We can use a different scenario if you prefer.”</p><p>“No, it’s fine,” he says dismissively, putting down his glass and picking up his knife and fork.</p><p>“Are you sure.”</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“And the test?”</p><p>“Test?”</p><p>“STI.”</p><p>“Oh. Sure. I’m easy. I mean, I don’t mind.”</p><p>He grins. <em>I’ll do anything</em>.</p><p>“Did you get the joke?” he continues to say, suddenly feeling a bit giddy. “I said I’m easy after you said-”</p><p>“I got it.”</p><p>“Should’ve used a condom.”</p><p>Chuckling, Will puts another piece of steak into his mouth.</p><p>“Your jokes are terrible,” says Hannibal.</p><p>“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell one then.”</p><p>There is a pause as the man thinks.</p><p>“There are only two ways to get diamonds,” says Hannibal.</p><p>Will arches an eyebrow.</p><p>“Pressure coal. Pressure a man.”</p><p>“You stole that from that movie,” says Will.</p><p>“What movie?”</p><p>“Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. When he says his friend is so uptight that if you stuck a piece of coal up his ass, it’d come out a diamond,” he explains with a chuckle.</p><p>When Hannibal continues to regard him blankly, Will repeats the man’s joke in his head. Lofts his brows when he realises his mistake.</p><p>“Oh. You were referring to a diamond <em>ring</em>.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Not his...” <em>Different kind of ring</em>.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Will picks up his glass.</p><p>“But you wear it on your finger all the same.”</p><p>Almost chokes on the wine at the unexpected comment. Recovering, he sees the smallest of smiles teasing the line of that mouth as Hannibal glances askance while lifting his own glass, and it’s enough to make his trousers tighten just a little more.</p><p>“Would you like to do a practise run,” he says, and Will tries not to inhale too sharply as he leans back against his chair.</p><p>“When?”</p><p>“Now.”</p><p>Will looks over at the clock while moving a hand down to tug discreetly at the fabric over his crotch.</p><p>“Sure,” he says casually before draining his glass.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. XXL</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter intended to be read to 'Into You' by Ariana Grande. A lyric only version of the song can be found: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WHHkVUaOxe4</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Walking out after the other, Will sees him pulling his tee over his head and starts to unbutton his own shirt.</p><p><em>Shit</em>.</p><p>“So where do we,” he begins to say, stopping when the man pushes his red joggers and underwear down in one go. Staring at that bared ass, he forgets what he was saying.</p><p>
  <em>Just.</em>
</p><p>“Do you have the lube?” Hannibal asks as he bends over to drag the garments off his legs.</p><p>
  <em>Got.</em>
</p><p>“Yeah,” Will utters, tearing his eyes away and stepping hurriedly into his room. Running a hand through his hair, he grabs the bottle on the bedside table and steps back out into the living space to see the other walking out of his own room stark naked and semi erect.</p><p>
  <em>Real.</em>
</p><p>His own arousal twitches at the sight and he can feel the heat radiating off the guy’s skin as he comes closer.</p><p>“Here’s fine,” says Hannibal, holding out a foil wrapper. As soon as Will takes it, he turns and lowers onto his knees upon the settee. <em>No preamble, then. Get straight to it. No problemo</em>. Presuming the other doesn’t want to waste any time, he abandons the buttons on his shirt. Undoes his belt. Zip down. Dick out. Tearing the wrapper, he takes out the condom and rolls it down himself. It feels a bit too snug and suspiciously like a Sensation – the range that had split on him before he had even started having sex with Margot that one time.</p><p>“Do you have any different ones?” he says, looking up to see the man watching him over his shoulder. Hooded eyes dropping to his slightly strangled cock.</p><p>Pushing off the settee, Hannibal walks back into his room. Through the open doorway, Will sees him leaning over his bed to reach the bedside table on the other side and feels the condom beginning to cut off his circulation. When he returns, Will is about to take it off when the other draws near and makes quick work of it while holding the new wrapper pinched between his teeth. His hooded eyes downcast as he efficiently removes the old condom before freeing and applying the new. Trying to get a grip, Will puts his hands on his hips as his dick gets wrestled into latex. While not exactly romantic, he hopes the guy is at least a little impressed by the spectacle. <em>I mean. You know you’ve got a big dick when it looks big against a guy’s hand</em>.</p><p>“Better?” he asks, glancing up. Standing at such close proximity to the other, Will reels from the unexpected intimacy and mutters a quick <em>mhm</em> before moving distractedly to pick up the bottle of lube from the coffee table. As he does, Hannibal resumes his position on the settee.</p><p>“Don’t you need to…?” he utters, eyes falling once more on that ass as the man settles on his knees. <em>Prep?</em></p><p>“Don’t have time.”</p><p>With that, Hannibal faces forward. Arches his back and leans forward the same time his hands find his own ass cheeks and pulls them apart. Will feels himself pulsate at the sight of his exposed entrance. At the baby fine hairs soon to grow matted with lube.</p><p>“Right,” he says absently while holding on to the bottle. His thoughts on their last porno when the other had struggled with just two fingers. When, in their private cam session, the man had fucked himself open with a plastic dong while Will had jerked himself off on the other side.</p><p>“Are you ready?”</p><p>The question stirs him into action and, licking his lips, he empties the cold translucent gunk into his palm and slathers himself with a shiver. Setting down the bottle, he steps up behind Hannibal, eyeballing the pink pucker of his anus as his stroking hand glides down his shaft to grip firmly around the base. </p><p>He glances briefly at the back of the other’s head before returning his attention to the task at hand. Or in hand, rather. Then, resting his left on Hannibal’s waist for leverage, his right keeps him aligned as he slowly rubs his head against that tiny hole. Swallowing convulsively when he sees it twitching wetly beneath his strokes. <em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>A quiet exhale makes him look up to see Hannibal with his head down. Back arching deeper as he continues to pin his own ass cheeks open with his hands. Tongue swiping the dry surface of his lip, Will holds on tighter to both himself and the man’s waist before leaning in. He has used too much lube, however, and his fat head struggles to find purchase on that slippery ring. Just when he thinks he’s about to breach it, he glides off into space. After a couple more times of the same thing, he inhales sharply through the nose. <em>Go on</em>. Lips pressing together, he holds his dick firm and pushes hard against the other’s body. <em>Do it</em>. Feels the pucker beginning to give from his effort and pushes harder still. <em>That’s it…</em></p><p>
  <em>Pop his cherry.</em>
</p><p>And suddenly, he’s in. His hissed curse coinciding with Hannibal’s muffled grunt. With his head now buried, he stares down at their joined bodies and sees every vein throbbing along his shaft through the latex.</p><p>++++</p><p>Willing his body to relax, Hannibal breathes out and lifts his head to look back at that creased brow and blue eyes downcast with concentration. A far cry from that cocksure attitude from the private cam sessions. As the man continues to cram his thick shaft into him, he reminds himself to breathe steady while fighting the urge to seize up against the invasion.</p><p>“You alright?”</p><p>Those blue eyes look up and he nods, holding that watchful gaze until he feels the other’s body butting against him and closes his eyes to the sensation of being stretched as that monstrous cock lodges deep inside. His walls beating as the housed guest waits.</p><p>“God,” Will exhales breathily. “You should feel yourself just now…”</p><p>Letting go of his ass cheeks, Hannibal reaches down and fists himself while bracing his other hand against the settee.</p><p>“No, I mean…what I’m feeling,” says Will, his hands taking the place of Hannibal’s to spread those cheeks again so he can look once more at their joined bodies. “How does it feel?”</p><p>“Big,” he answers, pressing his brow to the furniture and clenching on the member to emphasise his point. Immediately those hands shoot up to grab his waist.</p><p>“Yeah?” the man grunts as he twitches impatiently inside. “Bigger than the dildo she pegged you with?”</p><p>He doesn’t remember the porno so much, but he recalls the way his body had resisted the same dildo he was told to fuck himself with in their last cam session. Rushed and without any prep beforehand, the toy hadn’t penetrated his unwilling passage entirely that night. In truth, he doesn’t remember ever feeling as full as he is now.</p><p>“Yes,” he sighs quietly.</p><p>“Does it hurt…?”</p><p>“It might do when you move.”</p><p>“I’ll go slow…”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Ready…?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>++++</p><p>A fling from the past once said to Will that it’s less about the size of your cock and more about how you use it. At the time, he had retorted by saying it must be her lucky day considering he has a huge cock <em>and</em> knows exactly how to fuck a girl with it. The words seem to have returned to bite him in the ass, however, as he finds himself coming three seconds in. A new record.</p><p>While Hannibal goes to the kitchen, Will covers his eyes with a hand and wishes the settee would swallow him up.</p><p>
  <em>“Did you just come…?”</em>
</p><p><em>"…yeah. Sorry.”</em> </p><p>
  <em>“That was fast.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We can try again if you want…?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sure. There’s still time.”</em>
</p><p>He hears feet travelling back into the living space and lowers his hand while sitting more upright. Still butt naked and sporting an erection, Hannibal lowers himself onto the settee and holds an opened bottle his way.</p><p>“Thanks,” Will utters, taking the beer and lifting the rim to his lips.</p><p>“Do you always ejaculate prematurely when having anal sex?”</p><p>At the point blank question, Will swallows a bit too fast and feels his face twisting with indignation.</p><p>“No,” he says defensively.</p><p>“It’s understandable,” the man continues to say as he lifts his own bottle. “The job of the anus is to hold things in. You expect it to be tight. Especially the external sphincter.”</p><p>“So how did you find it?” says Will.</p><p>“Brief.”</p><p>“Anal with a woman, I mean,” he utters, ever so slightly disgruntled at the reminder of his lacklustre performance.</p><p>“Unnecessary.”</p><p>He turns his face to watch that impassive countenance.</p><p>“You didn’t like it?” he asks.</p><p>“I think people enjoy it the more because it’s considered taboo.”</p><p>Hannibal takes another swig from his bottle. Will does the same. As they sit there drinking, he can’t help thinking about how awkward and arousing it is to be sharing a beer knowing afterwards they’re going to fuck again. He was too excited the first time, clearly.</p><p>“Are you ready?”</p><p>Hooded eyes look his way and Will swallows his mouthful of beer.</p><p>“You drank that fast.”</p><p>“No faster than three seconds.”</p><p>“Ha ha.”</p><p>Despite his scoff, Will’s pride remains stung.</p><p>“I should be looser now, at least.”</p><p>
  <em>You would be if I had fucked you right.</em>
</p><p>Draining the beer, he puts the empty bottle down on the coffee table and picks up the lube. Reading the gesture as a go ahead, Hannibal puts his own bottle down before standing up and walking over to this room. Probably to get another condom.</p><p>“XXL, remember,” says Will in his attempt to smooth down his own ruffled feathers.</p><p>++++</p><p>Although he goes slower this time, he can’t help growing increasingly excited from hearing Hannibal making those small sounds of discomfort. Those hushed little <em>mnphs</em> whenever Will pushes to the root. Filling him to the max. When he’s going slow in this position, he usually does stuff like hold on to the girl’s breasts, or kiss her neck. Bite her earlobe. Reach a hand down. Being slow means he has time to think. Which isn’t always a good thing. Continuing to thrust slowly into the man, he reaches round for the other’s cock. Finds it hard and damp against the clutch of his fingers.</p><p>“Don’t,” says Hannibal, catching his wrist and pulling his hand away. “I still need to cam.”</p><p>“Scared you won’t get it up again?” Will utters, feeling a stab of jealousy at the reminder. “You can just draw out the small talk. Sure they won’t mind.”</p><p>He starts to thrust a little faster.</p><p>“You’re speeding up.”</p><p>“No I’m not.”</p><p>“Mnph…slow down…”</p><p>“I’m going as slow as I can-”</p><p>“You’re about to come.”</p><p>“No I’m-”</p><p>Before he can finish protesting, Will groans as he blows his load again. <em>Please let that be more than three seconds</em>.</p><p>“Five seconds,” says Hannibal.</p><p><em>More than three seconds</em>.</p><p>“Fuck,” Will mutters, pulling out and removing the spent condom.</p><p>“You could build your stamina using the fleshlite,” suggests Hannibal.</p><p>Will grunts as he ties off the end. He wants to throw it with some force but there isn’t a bin nearby.</p><p>“Try again some other time,” the man adds.</p><p>He looks up as Hannibal makes his way to the bathroom. When the door closes, it leaves him standing alone and embarrassed.</p><p>++++</p><p>When he comes out of the bathroom, the television is on, but he doesn’t recognise the show. Walking up to the settee, he sees Will sitting back, drinking another beer. He sits down beside him.</p><p>“Do you want one?” the man asks, his eyes on the screen.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Beer in hand, Will stands up and heads to the kitchen.</p><p>++++</p><p>They sit in silence as they drink their beers and watch the movie. Without conversation, it takes less time to finish one. When he asks Hannibal if he would like another, the man declines. He comes back with two anyway, intending to finish both himself.</p><p>++++</p><p>When he comes out during a break, he sees Will sitting slumped on the settee, drinking still. His eyes half drawn as he stares listlessly at the television. There is a growing collection of empty bottles on the coffee table.</p><p>“You’re buying the replacement,” he says on his way to the bathroom. Behind him, he hears the other grunting in response.</p><p>++++</p><p>He opens the door to darkness. Will appears without warning, his drunken expression lit up by his bedroom light. Hannibal feels hands grabbing him by the biceps before the other pushes his way into the room. Pushes him back against the bed until he falls down with the other on top.</p><p>“Will,” he says as the man buries his face into his neck. His breath warm and stinking of beer.</p><p>“Mm going to fuck you…” he mumbles. “Until you pass out…” </p><p>“I think you’re about to,” says Hannibal as he lies there on his back beneath his weight.</p><p>“Let me fuck you…” the voice continues to slur lowly against his neck. “I’ll do better…”</p><p>“I’m sure you will.”</p><p>“I’m a good lover…”</p><p>“I’m sure you are.”</p><p>Will mumbles something indecipherable. Slowly, he pushes up, rolling the other onto his back. His eyes are closed, as though he is already falling asleep.</p><p>++++</p><p>When Will eventually wakes up, he does so with a banging headache. Finding himself in his own bed, he rolls over to see a glass of water on the bedside table. And a box beside it labelled STU: Stamina Training Unit. Will stares flatly at it for another minute before memories of the evening come back to him and slowly he rolls over onto his stomach. His groan becoming muffled as he buries his face in the pillow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Families</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the next few days, Will pretends the embarrassing episode never happened. He doesn’t mention sex again until Hannibal asks about the STU over dinner. Continuing to eat, Will says no, he hasn’t used it yet. And when he feels those eyes on him, explains he has to order more lube first. And leaves it at that.</p><p>The fourth day after they had sex, however, Hannibal starts to fall ill. A test taken on site confirms he has contracted the virus whilst working and must stay at home for seven days. Will doesn’t develop any symptoms, but since they live together, he should technically be self-isolating for the full fourteen days, though he wonders if it will affect him as severely as it had done when he’d caught it at the hospital. It’s hard to know, but he could’ve caught the virus even before then – that time he fell ill after seeing Margot. Turns out not everyone develops the same symptoms. Still, the antibody test has not yet been made available to the public, and Hannibal insists on following the rules down to the T.</p><p>He stays in his room, speaking to Will through the door. When the fever hits, Hannibal goes silent, and Will opens the door just enough to see the man lying in bed, shivering. His eyes closed and hair mussed. His cheekbones flushed as sweat plasters those light tresses to his forehead. Seeing Hannibal like this reminds him of when he’d been ill himself and the other had fetched him medicine and fruit. Finally, he feels he can repay the act of kindness, and does what he can to make life easier for the guy. Cook and leave meals at his door, for example. Despite struggling to get out of bed, Hannibal refuses to permit Will entry into the room, and insists he leaves everything outside the door before moving well away. When he needs to use the bathroom, he announces so through the door and Will has to move down the settee if he happens to be on it to demonstrate his cooperation and willingness to appease the man’s obsessive rule-following. Without a word, he sits there, watching Hannibal emerge from his room looking like a survivor of a shipwreck who has just dragged themselves onto dry land. If he needs to use the bathroom for more than a whizz, Will has to let him know when he’s done with it first to reduce the risk of contamination.</p><p>One evening, he hears Hannibal struggling to speak during a phone call. Eating his dinner on the coffee table, he mutes the television and listens to the murmur of foreign words coming through the door. He doesn’t understand the language, but he can read the increasingly frustrated intonation. Has a feeling the man could even be inclined to shout if he wasn’t so ravaged by fever. When silence returns, he gets up and makes his way over to ask if the other is okay. Hears the tired utterance of <em>yes</em>, and rather suspects the opposite, but knows not to pry if Hannibal isn’t looking for conversation. He crosses the line, however, when he later hears noises coming from the room and gets no response after knocking on the door. Opening it, he sees the man tossing and turning in his sleep as an incoherent mumbling escapes his lips. Sees the helpless expression twisting the normally impassive face and the unexpected tears revealed by lamplight as an uncharacteristic whimpering begins. Caught off guard by the sight and sound of Hannibal’s distress, Will steps inside and gently shakes him awake by the shoulder. But his concern is met with confusion as the man wakes, followed by anger. Half groggy, half horrified, Hannibal tells Will to get out, so he gets out, closing the door again.   </p><p>It had unsettled him, seeing the man looking so vulnerable. So much so that he finds himself thinking more than once of the other lying there upon tossed covers, his naked body gleaming with sweat as his chest rises and falls. That black gaze heavy lidded as he looks up helplessly at Will. When the lube arrives, he takes to the STU with a new sense of urgency, determined to give the guy a nice surprise when he’s well again.</p><p>And yet the surprise comes to him, first. A day later, when the doorbell goes. Opening the door a crack, he sees an old woman wearing a paisley headscarf and a blue face mask obscuring most of her face.     </p><p>“Can I help you?” he asks through the gap, and the creases at the corners of her dark eyes deepen visibly as she hesitates.</p><p>“Sorry,” she utters, watching him a moment longer. Her foreign accent slightly muffled by the mask yet sounding vaguely familiar. “I have wrong address,” she says, turning to go.</p><p>“Who are you looking for?” he asks, feeling helpful despite not knowing the neighbours.</p><p>The old woman faces him. Looks him over with an unreadable expression.</p><p>“Hannibal Lecter,” she says, meeting him in the eye.</p><p>****</p><p>He wakes to the sound of firm rapping and opens his eyes.</p><p>“Hannibal?”</p><p>At the sound of Will’s voice through the door, loud and impatient, he suspects the other has been knocking for some time.</p><p>“Are you awake?” the man continues to ask.</p><p>Dragging himself up against the pillows, Hannibal takes a breath.</p><p>“Your mother’s here.”</p><p>He closes his eyes.</p><p>“Hannibal?”</p><p>“I’m awake.”</p><p>“Your mother’s here. She wants to see you.”</p><p>He opens his eyes.</p><p>“I said it’s not a good idea,” the other continues to say, “but she doesn’t seem to want to take no for an answer.”</p><p>“She can’t come in,” says Hannibal. “Tell her I’ll call her.”</p><p>“Alright.”<br/>
<br/>
“Will.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Be firm.”</p><p>A pause.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>****</p><p>She wasn’t happy with her son’s message, and Will ended up closing the door in her face when she showed no signs of leaving. It was awkward, but he’s glad he no longer has to stand there being frowned at. When he goes to tell Hannibal through the door that his mother has left, he has to bite his lip to stop himself asking further questions. <em>Is she part of the family business? Does she know what you do for a living? Has she seen your pornos?</em> The paisley headscarf comes to mind and Will finds it hard to imagine a yes for any of those questions.   </p><p>It’s true that Hannibal has never really been one for animated conversation. At least, not in Will’s company. And yet they still shared words when he came back from work and sometimes in the mornings when they work out together. Admittedly, the video-making had become the main topic as of late, but it still got them talking. Then the appearance of Hannibal’s mother reminded Will of how relatively little he knows about the other, and even though the silence of Hannibal’s self-isolation isn’t technically so stark a contrast to how things have been, Will starts to miss it. Sitting at the kitchen table. On the settee. Watching one another while exchanging words. Instead, he finds himself exchanging words with the mother of his unborn child.   </p><p>“It would’ve been earlier, but they had to reschedule,” says Margot as Will sits on the settee with a glass of wine. He needed something to counter the mention of a baby scan and continues to sip as he listens to her telling him about the beginnings of facial expressions as the muscles develop in the baby’s face, and how the baby can form a fist with its hands. While she talks down the phone, he watches the door to Hannibal’s room. Idly wonders how many times the man has formed a fist with his own hand within those four walls. His regulars must be missing him, he thinks to himself. </p><p>“So everything’s okay?” he says, trying to sound invested in the concept of his baby’s health if not yet comfortable with the fact that he’s going to be a father. He doesn’t particularly want to continue the conversation, but it’s probably better than sitting in silence for another evening. So he lets her talk, telling him about an antenatal class that she’s joined and attends once a week through Zoom. He doesn’t even know what antenatal classes involve, but if they make her feel more informed, then fair enough. At least one of them should be.</p><p>After Margot hangs up, he pours himself another glass, thinking about his own impending Zoom meeting. Hutton has already given him the heads up on HR calling employees and making referrals if they deem it necessary. It’s likely they will want to refer him to a counsellor following his little <em>episode</em> and time spent in hospital, Hutton had said. It didn’t help that Will had not attended the webinar on mental and emotional wellbeing, the man had pointed out, and Will didn’t think it necessary to explain he’d been tending to his mental and emotional wellbeing in a much more productive way.     </p><p>As though able to sense he’d been thinking about him, Hannibal suddenly calls his name through the door, and Will puts the glass down before standing up and making his way over.</p><p>“You okay?” he asks, leaning in to listen.</p><p>“I’m going to have a shower,” says the other, sounding exhausted.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Have you showered?”</p><p>“No, but it’s fine,” says Will dismissively. “I’ll clean up when you’re done.”</p><p>A pause as he continues to stand there with his hands on his hips, listening.</p><p>“I’m coming out,” says Hannibal after a moment, and Will smiles.</p><p>“Okay, gayboy,” he says jokingly before walking back to the settee.</p><p>The door opens as he sits down and Hannibal emerges at the threshold, carrying his own towel. His hair sticking up on one side of his head.</p><p>“What did you call me,” he says with his eyes half-drawn, looking like he has not long woken up.</p><p>“Nothing,” says Will innocently. He watches the other make his way to the bathroom. Dragging his feet slightly from fatigue. “You gonna manage in there?” he asks.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Shout if you need help. I’ve got a PPE suit.”</p><p>The man pauses, looking back at him.</p><p>“We have a lot of bin bags,” says Will with a lofting of his brows. When Hannibal continues on his way, he adds, “I can make one for your mom the next time she visits.”</p><p>He sees the other hesitating but choosing not to respond as he opens the bathroom door and goes inside.</p><p>****</p><p>When he comes out of the bathroom, he sees Will looking over from the settee wearing a face mask.</p><p>“Hey,” he says, turning to fold his arms upon the back of the furniture. “Thought you might want to sit here for a bit.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” says Hannibal tiredly.</p><p>“If we sit on opposite ends of the sofa, it’s pretty much two metres,” says the other. His eyebrows lofting. “We’re not going to get any fluids on one another,” he adds playfully.</p><p>“Respiratory droplets,” says Hannibal as he walks towards his room.</p><p>“I’ve not heard you cough,” says Will casually as he passes. “And I’m probably immune.”</p><p>“Catching it once doesn’t guarantee immunity,” he says, reaching the door to his room.</p><p>“I might’ve caught it more than once.”</p><p>Hannibal looks at the man as he pulls the mask down under his chin.</p><p>“That time you got me the meds, remember?” Will continues to say.</p><p>“You took a risk then, but you shouldn’t take one now,” he says, facing the door.</p><p>“I’m not asking you to have sex with me.”</p><p>At the defensive tone, Hannibal turns his face to the side. From the corner of his eye, he sees the other taking off the mask and tossing it onto the coffee table before reaching for his wine glass.</p><p>****</p><p>The next morning, Will spends an hour in a Zoom call with a counsellor hired by the company. Groomed and wearing his smart work attire waist up, he sits on the settee in his boxer shorts, answering all their questions. He is polite. He is charming. He thinks he’s managed to convince the woman to give him the all clear.</p><p>The video call ends, leaving him sitting in silence. Exhaling, he drops his head back against the settee, eyes lidding as he begins to stroke idly at his tie. The curtains are open and the apartment is awash with the natural light of the morning. Closing his eyes, he imagines being back in the office.  </p><p>There is a knock on the door before it opens and in walks Hannibal in his red tracksuit followed by his mother in her paisley headscarf. He greets and invites them to take a seat at his desk, and they begin to talk business – Hannibal translating the more complex phrases for his mother as Will looks him over. The mother soon departs – afternoon tea with some old biddies – leaving her son behind to deal with the remaining affairs. After she leaves, the blinds are drawn. The door locked. And in a heartbeat, Will is pressing Hannibal against the edge of the desk. His hand shoving down the front of those joggers, past the band of his underwear to clasp the burgeoning arousal as a ragged breath leaves the man’s lips. When he tries to kiss him, Hannibal moves his face to the side, but his body tells Will that he wants it as much as he does, and he dips his head to press his mouth to his neck instead.</p><p>“Don’t,” the other breathes, his hand in Will’s hair.</p><p>“Why?” Will murmurs against his ear. “Don’t want your mother to see your love bites?”</p><p>Using both hands, he tugs down those joggers and underwear before spinning Hannibal round and pushing him down against the desk. Freeing himself, he spits generously on his hole – on his dick – then shoves himself in as the other pants beneath him. Making those sweet little grunts of discomfort as Will pushes home and fills him to the brim. Grabbing his waist, he leans down and begins hurriedly to thrust.        </p><p>“Does she know you like to take it up the ass?” he pants behind his ear. “How good it feels, having my huge cock inside you? Rubbing you just right?” He hears Hannibal whimpering uncharacteristically as he rams harder into him. Their bodies slapping loudly against one another. “Should I tell her?”</p><p>“No,” Hannibal pleads lowly, and Will feels his tie being snatched and pulled as the man rocks back and forth from the force of his hips. “Please…”</p><p>Pressing his chest against the other’s back, he snakes his arms around him without slowing.</p><p>“I won’t if you call me daddy…”</p><p>“Please…daddy…”</p><p>With a lustful grunt, Will pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, the force of it making Hannibal cry out and scrabble for purchase on his desk. His long fingers snatching at loose papers as pens get knocked off the edge and fall with a clatter onto the floor.</p><p>“Take it,” he grunts, doubling his pace. “Take daddy’s cock.”</p><p>“I’m coming,” Hannibal suddenly pants, and Will pulls out abruptly. Grabbing him by the arms, he tugs him up and spins him so they’re facing, then ducks down to wrestle off the man’s sneakers. Tearing joggers and boxers from those long legs, he pushes the other down onto his back and pins those thighs against his heaving chest.</p><p>“Say it right,” he growls, watching those dark eyes gazing helplessly at his cock being rubbed by Will’s. Heavily veined shaft gliding back and forth against his own. Pre-cum trailing like tears from their eyes.</p><p>“You’re going to make me come, daddy,” pants Hannibal. Lips agape. Cheekbones flushed.</p><p>“Yeah?” Will sneers as he pushes back in. Hands darting to catch the other’s wrists before pinning them above the man’s head as he arches desperately against the desk beneath him.</p><p>“Yes,” he gasps, eyes snapping shut against the rhythm regained by Will’s pummelling hips.</p><p>“You gonna come for me, baby boy?”</p><p>The sound of skin smacking on skin grows loud and urgent.  </p><p>“Gonna make a mess for everyone to see?”</p><p>Hooded eyes open and meet his heated stare.</p><p>“So they know?” Will pants as he feels himself nearing, gazing down at Hannibal through half drawn eyes. At the man pinned to his desk with his legs wrapped around him and his dick shuddering with each of his thrusts. Burying his face in his neck, Will lets go of his wrists. Feels hands grabbing the shirt at his back as he holds on tight to Hannibal’s trembling body. <em>So they know that you’re-</em></p><p>A sound pulls him out of the fantasy and he opens his eyes and lifts his head to see to Hannibal emerging from his room. He pulls his hand out of his boxers and drags the laptop back onto his lap. Clearing his throat as he watches the screen.</p><p>
  <em>So they know that you’re mine.</em>
</p><p>****</p><p>A few days later, Hannibal is no longer feverish or suffering from fatigue. Will wants to relax the rules inside the apartment, but the man is insistent on sticking with the fourteen days, and it’s his home, after all, even if Will does pay significantly towards the rent. It’s only another week, he tells himself, and he tries not to make anything of the other continuing to confine himself in his room despite the easing of his symptoms. Tells himself it’s not an issue if the guy spends more time talking on his phone than through the door.</p><p>The following week, Will is up one morning and on his laptop, checking emails when he hears something being pushed through the letterbox. Getting up, he walks over and picks up the envelopes. He opens the one addressed to him and realises it’s the results for the STI test he’d agreed to take. Clear. Eyes on the paper, he walks to Hannibal’s room, pausing when he hears the other on the phone again. Leaning closer, he makes out the hushed murmur, as though the man doesn’t want to be heard, even though Will can’t understand what he’s saying. He seems occupied, so Will returns to the settee.</p><p>When Hannibal comes out, he is dressed and carrying a holdall.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Will asks.</p><p>“I have to go,” says Hannibal before continuing on his way towards the front door.</p><p>“Where?”</p><p>“Family.”</p><p>Standing, Will walks towards the other. Hands moving to his hips.</p><p>“Has something happened?” he asks, watching as Hannibal sets down the holdall to put on his shoes. When there’s no response, he adds, “Is there anything I can do?”</p><p>Straightening up, Hannibal looks at him. As usual, he doesn’t give much away with his lack of facial expression, but Will senses something is weighing on the other’s mind. Feels his own beginning to grow heavy with questions. <em>Should you really be going just now? What if you catch it again? Will your family look after you?</em></p><p>“No,” he answers quietly. “But thank you.”</p><p>His eyes fall on the paper still in Will’s hand.</p><p>“What’s that?” he asks.</p><p>“Nothing,” says Will dismissively, folding his arms. “You’re staying with family, then?”</p><p>“I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“I’ve written my number on a bit of paper. It’s in my room.”</p><p>“Okay,” says Will, suddenly realising they never did exchange numbers. There hasn’t been a reason to.</p><p>As he turns to the door, Will licks his lips and shifts his weight onto the other foot.</p><p>“Stay safe,” he utters, watching the back of that red tracksuit. Hannibal stops with his hand on the door handle. He looks back at him over his shoulder.</p><p>“And you,” he says.</p><p>Will forces a smile and then the other is facing the front and opening the door. When it closes, he turns and heads to Hannibal’s room. Walking through the open doorway, he sees a sheet of paper on the bedside table. Picking it up, he sees a number written down and the words below it.</p><p>
  <em>Thank you, Will</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>While Hannibal is away, Will is paid an unexpected visit in the middle of the night. Opening his eyes to strange sounds, he climbs out of bed. Opens the door to see two men in balaclavas and dark clothing carrying Hannibal’s monitor towards the open window. They stop when they see him stood at the threshold. In his peripheral vision, he sees a third venturing out of Hannibal’s room. Thinking immediately of his phone, he is about to back up when the man runs at him and catches him in a headlock. Fighting his grip, Will jerks his face from the gloved hand trying to clamp over his mouth as one of the men leaves the monitor to assist. As he nears, Will struggles harder and begins to shout.<br/>
“I’ve got corona, you sonuva-”<br/>
His protest is cut short as the man smacks his fist into Will’s face.</p><p>****</p><p>The bright screen of his phone cuts through the dark of the room as it vibrates. Hannibal picks it up and sees Will’s name on the screen. Checks the time above: 4.43am. Answers the call.<br/>
“Hey,” says the other. He sounds tired. “Sorry for waking you.”<br/>
Sitting up in bed, Hannibal rubs at his eye.<br/>
“It’s fine,” he murmurs. “Is everything okay?”<br/>
“Some guys broke in.”<br/>
He frowns.<br/>
“I stopped them taking anything,” Will continues to say.<br/>
“How many of them were there?” Hannibal asks, pushing aside the covers and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.<br/>
“Three,” Will answers. “But it’s fine. They’ve gone now.”<br/>
“Are you hurt?”<br/>
“I’m fine.”<br/>
Closing his eyes, Hannibal exhales. When he opens them again, he gazes fixedly at the floor.<br/>
“Have you called the police?” he asks quietly.<br/>
“No.”<br/>
A pause. During which, Hannibal glances askance.<br/>
“I’m afraid I can’t come back yet,” he says.<br/>
“That’s okay.”<br/>
“I’ll send someone round to reinforce security.”<br/>
“I can do that-”<br/>
“He’s a specialist,” Hannibal interrupts to say. “I’ll let you know when he’s on the way.”<br/>
“Alright.”<br/>
The slightest pause.<br/>
“I trust you,” Will adds.</p><p>****</p><p>For a moment, there is silence as he waits for Hannibal to say something.<em> Please don’t fuck me over if there’s some serious shit going on here. I’m not asking why you don’t want the police involved. Even willing to turn a blind eye, to an extent, because…</em></p><p>“I’ll explain when I’m back,” says Hannibal eventually.</p><p>
  <em>I like you.</em>
</p><p>After the other hangs up, Will leans back on the settee and lifts the bag of frozen peas. Pressing it over his eye, he lets out a quiet sigh.</p><p>Not long after, Hannibal calls back to tell Will his cousin will be coming over in just under an hour’s time. He is apologetic for keeping Will up, but says he wants to make sure the flat is secure.<br/>
“It’s fine,” says Will as he gazes idly through his lashes at the other’s bedroom door. “How are things on your end, anyway?”<br/>
Maybe the guy isn’t up for conversation. It’s already creeping past 5.30. But he wants to listen to the sound of his voice, even if the hesitation suggests he’ll be hearing the man’s goodbye.<br/>
“My father passed away in hospital.”<br/>
<em>Shit</em>. Frowning, Will lowers the bag of peas.<br/>
“He had corona.”<br/>
“I’m sorry,” says Will, sitting up straighter.<br/>
“It’s fine,” Hannibal continues to say in a quiet voice. “I’m helping the family with funeral arrangements.”<br/>
“Do you need any help with that?”<br/>
“No, thank you.”<br/>
“I mean, financially?”<br/>
“It’s fine.”<br/>
“Okay.”<br/>
Pause.<br/>
“But if you do need anything, just say, yeah?” Will adds. Licking his lips, he takes a quick breath. “Cos it’s not a problem, you know. If you or your family need any help or just…someone to be there. Like a friend.” He clears his throat, looking down at the peas. “Not saying you don’t have any.”<br/>
“I appreciate that. Thank you.”<br/>
When Hannibal doesn’t say anything else, Will toys with the bag of peas.<br/>
“Maybe you can send the correct fleshlight round with your cousin,” he says jokingly.<br/>
“Maybe.”<br/>
A smile tugs twitchingly at the corner of his lips.<br/>
“Speak soon, Will.”<br/>
“Yeah. Speak soon.”</p><p>The cousin shows up just as Hannibal had said. Wearing a face mask, he comes into the apartment and replaces the locks on all the windows with heavy duty ones. He also changes the lock on the front door. He works without speaking. When Will asks if he would like a tea or coffee, the man shakes his head no and carries on working. When he’s finished, he notifies Will, looks him briefly in the eye – the first direct eye contact he has made since arriving – then takes his leave. As he looks over the lock on the window, he gets a text message from Hannibal.</p><p>
  <em> <strong>Is everything okay?</strong> </em>
</p><p>He sends his reply.</p><p>
  <em> <strong>It’s all good.</strong> </em>
</p><p>After a pause, he sends another text straight after.</p><p>
  <em> <strong>How are things going on your end?</strong> </em>
</p><p>But doesn’t get a reply.</p><p>****</p><p>That night, his phone rings, interrupting the silence of the apartment. Tearing his eyes from the still screen of the movie that he had long paused, he picks up the phone and presses it eagerly to his ear.<br/>
“Is everything okay?” he asks off the bat.<br/>
“Yes,” comes the answer. Short and monotonous.<br/>
<em>I’ll take that as a no.</em><br/>
“Have you eaten?” he continues to ask, glancing at his own plate of half eaten food on the coffee table.<br/>
“I’m not hungry.”<br/>
“You should try to eat something,” says Will. “Keep the energy levels going and that.”<br/>
“Have you eaten?”<br/>
<em>Diverting attention, huh?</em><br/>
“Yeah,” he exhales quietly, leaning back against the settee.<br/>
“What did you have.”<br/>
“Spaghetti.”<br/>
“That’s nice.”<br/>
He hears the sound of wind blowing on Hannibal’s end.<br/>
“Where are you?” Will asks.<br/>
“Outside.”<br/>
Pause.<br/>
“My mother and sister are crying in the house.”<br/>
Not expecting the imparting of such information, Will itches his ear.<br/>
“Must be hard for them,” he utters, hand clasping his nape as he gazes at the cold spaghetti and remembers the live chat with Mischa on the sex toy website. The old lady in the paisley headscarf. His fantasy following the Zoom meeting.<br/>
“Mother feels lost without a patriarch in the house,” explains Hannibal evenly. “Mischa was a daddy’s girl.”<br/>
Somehow, these words leaving the other’s lips smack too close to intimacy, and again, Will had not expected it, and now sits there listening with a mixture of relief and unease.<br/>
“What about you?” he asks, curious where the man fits in this familial portrait. The wind blows hard all of a sudden, but through it, Will just about hears the words:<br/>
“Are you asking if I’m a daddy’s boy?”<br/>
He gulps involuntarily just before the background noise disappears, dropping them in silence.<br/>
“Have you gone back inside?” he asks.<br/>
“I’m sitting in the car.”<br/>
“Whose car?”<br/>
“It was my father’s,” says Hannibal.<br/>
Pause.<br/>
“It’s not as nice as yours,” he adds, and Will thinks of Hutton keeping his car safe in a privately hired garage that Will continues to pay for monthly.<br/>
“How would you know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to a half close. “You’ve never seen it.”<br/>
“I suppose I haven’t,” says Hannibal.<br/>
“Do you want to?” says Will, voice dropping slightly in octave and volume as he lowers his gaze to the edge of the coffee table.<br/>
“Sure.”<br/>
“I’ll show you when you’re back.”<br/>
“Is it big?” Hannibal asks, his voice markedly quieter. Lower in tone. Suggestive of the kind of playful intimacy Will can handle.<br/>
“Big enough…” he murmurs. “I can take you for a ride if you like…”<br/>
“What’s the speed?”<br/>
“0 to 100 in 2 seconds.”<br/>
“Not 3?”<br/>
He smiles lopsidedly.<br/>
“I would go down a gear or two,” Hannibal continues to say. Closing his eyes, Will licks his lips as his head tilts back against the settee.<br/>
“Yeah?”<br/>
He imagines Hannibal going down on him in the car.<br/>
“Slowpoke,” he chuckles lowly.<br/>
“Is that not the idea?” says the other.<br/>
Sighing through the nose, Will slips his hand onto his lap. Gives himself a squeeze.<br/>
“I miss you,” he says without thinking. Then, realising his mistake, he grimaces and opens his eyes. There is a long pause. He starts to apologise the same time the other begins to speak. Another awkward micro pause ensues, and then:<br/>
“I’ll see you soon, Will.”<br/>
“Yeah,” he utters sheepishly. “See you soon.”</p><p>Lying in bed, he remembers that time he had sex in his car with a girl after being her plus one for a funeral. It’s morbid, he knows, but he imagines driving Hannibal from his father’s funeral and parking up in the rented garage. The door closes and the space becomes private and safe. When he looks over, Hannibal is sitting impassive beside him. Smart in his black suit and tie. His cheekbones wet with tears that fall like they had in his sleep when he was self-isolating. Silent and abundant. Will puts his hand on the other’s thigh. When Hannibal doesn’t respond, he leans over and starts to undo his belt. As the man begins to fight his advances, Will moves faster, freeing his flaccid penis from his underwear and lowering his head to take him gently into his mouth. Ignoring the hands grabbing his shoulders in protest, he sucks carefully on Hannibal, gradually coaxing his arousal until he feels fingers snatching at his curls. Hears the breaths leaving his lips grow increasingly shallow and ragged with need. Lifting his eyes, he sees the other watching down at him, eyes glistening and heavy lidded. His mouth agape and ready to speak his name. Instead, a weak moan slips out as Will sucks harder, faster, his hand moving to clasp that pulsing shaft that begins suddenly to thicken. And despite never having experienced the sensation, he lets Hannibal come inside his mouth. Swallows him down as the man trembles. The tears rolling free as those hooded eyes squeeze shut.</p><p>“It’s okay,” he hears himself whisper into the dark of the room as his hand continues to move.</p><p><em>I’m here</em>.</p><p>****</p><p>A week later, he finds himself fully dressed in the early morning – as opposed to skulking around the apartment in his shorts and tee – and pacing restlessly back and forth. Since receiving the text from Hannibal the night before to say he’s returning the following day, Will has not slept. He had spent a while carefully grooming his beard and hair, and picked out one of his best shirts and smart trousers. Walking to the coffee table, he looks down at the envelope addressed to Hannibal. The unopened results of the STI test that he has been staring at every day. Stands there for a moment with his hands on hips before picking it up and taking it into the other’s bedroom. He puts it down on the bedside table. After a moment, he changes his mind and opens the drawer. Puts it inside and shuts it again. He hears a noise and walks out quickly to see the front door beginning to open. Smoothing down the front of his shirt, he tucks his hands into his trouser pockets just as Hannibal walks in.<br/>
“Hey,” he says brightly, watching the man push shut the door and lower the holdall in his hand to the ground before leaning over to take off his shoes. His hair looks unkempt and falls across his eyes. When he straightens back up with the holdall, he doesn’t lift his gaze. Judging by the dark circles, perhaps it’s too much effort to, Will surmises as the other begins to trudge towards him.<br/>
“Do you want a coffee?” he asks.<br/>
As though he neither hears nor sees him, however, Hannibal walks straight to his bedroom door. Opens it. And goes inside. Will opens his mouth as the door begins to close, but can’t think of anything to say before it shuts.</p><p>Hannibal doesn’t come out of his room for the rest of the day. Will had cooked and laid the table, but when he knocked on the door, there was no reply, and when he opened it a crack to look inside, he saw the other lying on his side, facing the wall. He’d decided not to disturb the guy and ate alone at the table. Afterwards, he’d put Hannibal’s portion in the fridge, and sat for a while on the settee. Growing restless, however, he finds himself outside the other’s door again. As he puts his hand on the handle, the door suddenly opens, and he finds himself staring at Hannibal through the gap.<br/>
“Hey,” he utters, hands slipping into his trouser pockets.<br/>
“Hey,” the other echoes, sounding and looking tired. He’s still wearing his red tracksuit jacket, as though he didn’t even have the energy to take it off before collapsing onto his bed. He looks at Will without expression. His hooded eyes half drawn.<br/>
“How you feeling?” Will asks quietly.<br/>
“Your eye.”<br/>
“It’s fine,” he says. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”<br/>
Hannibal averts his gaze, brow creasing. Eyes growing moist. Afraid the man is about to cry, Will swallows. His inner debate of whether to embrace the other or to give him a non-too-intrusive hand on the shoulder is interrupted by Hannibal’s quiet utterance.<br/>
“I’m sorry.”<br/>
“It’s fine-”<br/>
“You were hurt because of me.”<br/>
“I was hurt because they were a bunch of assholes-”<br/>
“They came for the cam set up,” says Hannibal with a frown. “They knew I’d be away.”<br/>
“You know who they are?”<br/>
“I think I have an idea,” the other answers.<br/>
Resting a hand on the door frame, Will leans a little closer.<br/>
“Are you afraid of these people?” he asks quietly. “Is that why you didn’t want police involved?”<br/>
“I’m not afraid,” says Hannibal. Dropping his gaze, he opens his mouth. Hesitates before adding, “I wasn’t.”<br/>
“But you won’t go to the police.”<br/>
“They can’t come here,” says Hannibal in a hushed voice.<br/>
“Why?” says Will gently.<br/>
Hooded eyes look up. Debating.<br/>
“Why can’t they come here?”<br/>
Hannibal looks away as the door begins to close but Will plants his hand on it to keep it open.<br/>
“Hey,” says Will. “I deserve to know what’s going on.”<br/>
“You should go.”<br/>
He feels his brow knotting.<br/>
“You have enough to find a place,” Hannibal continues to say.<br/>
“You’re kicking me out?”<br/>
“You shouldn’t stay here.”<br/>
“That’s for me to judge.”<br/>
“It’s my apartment.”<br/>
“Just tell me what’s going on-”<br/>
“You should go, Will.”<br/>
The door shuts in his face.<br/>
“Han,” he says, grabbing the handle and feeling the other’s grip keeping it from turning on the other side. “Whatever it is, I can help you. Just-”<br/>
“I want you to leave,” says Hannibal through the door.<br/>
Staring, Will swallows and lowers his gaze. <em>He’s exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. Give him some space</em>. Letting go of the handle, he backs from the door and walks away.</p><p>****</p><p>
  <em>You should be ashamed of yourself. The business is bad enough, but my son whoring himself out to women and men? Sofija knows. She found out. And now, she refuses to accept our money. Are you proud of yourself, son? I know who that man is. I know he has a partner. Will you drag these people into the mire with you too?</em>
</p><p>Behind his eyelids, he sees the anger and disappointment in her dark eyes. The twisted expression of contempt. The trembling lip.</p><p>
  <em>Renounce this shameful life and start again in Lithuania. If you don’t, you will never see your wife and child again – I will never see my grandchild again. Will you do this to your own mother? Do you really not care at all about family? Your father is dead, Hannibal. There is only so much disappointment an old woman can take. Does it make you happy, breaking your own mother’s heart?</em>
</p><p>Opening his eyes, he gazes upon the black screen of the monitor at the end of the room. He’d barely flinched when she struck him. A part of him would have expected more, if she had known the rest. Mischa had come into the kitchen, then, distraught to see him walking away as their mother continued to shout after him.</p><p>
  <em>Yes, walk away, son, like you’ve always done. Abandon your family like your dead father has!</em>
</p><p>His mother had been upset. He knew she would finally lose patience, and in the wake of his father’s death, there was nothing that could have been done or said to prevent her voicing her heartache. But he won’t go back to a country where he has a wife who can’t love him and a child he is too ashamed to see. He can’t imagine them living together pretending to be a happy family. Neither would he wish to bring shame to their door. And what of Will Graham? There is still hope for him, should he dismiss their friendship as a pandemic fling. Perhaps that is all it was ever going to be. And when everything is back to normal in society, he will move on from this. He should move on from this. A man like Will Graham should not be rolling in dirt. He should keep his hands clean, unlike Hannibal.</p><p>****</p><p>In the morning, he is woken up by the sound of the front door closing. Left alone again, he closes his eyes and rolls onto his side. Tries to go back to sleep so he doesn’t have to think about talking to Hannibal. About the things he’d say. About the answers the man could end up giving him.</p><p>A while later, he is woken up by the sound of knocking. Dragging himself out of bed, he answers the door to Hannibal’s mother.</p><p>****</p><p>Evening comes and it could have been an evening from a few weeks ago. Hannibal comes back the time he used to come back from his work shift, and Will has food ready for when the other steps into the kitchen, taking off his jacket. He takes a sip of his water as Hannibal sits down at the table. Picks up his fork. They start to eat and Will keeps his eyes on his plate.<br/>
“How was work?” he says. “Assuming you went to work.”<br/>
“Fine.”<br/>
“Your mother called by today,” he says casually, glancing up to see Hannibal watching down at his food. “She wanted to talk, so I let her in.” As hooded eyes continue to remain downcast, Will continues to speak, lowering his own gaze to the table. “We sat down – here, actually. She sat where you are sitting now.” He glances up again. “She told me a few things.” For a moment, he watches Hannibal eat as his own fork rests still in his hand. “Aren’t you gonna ask what she told me?” he says after a while.<br/>
“Why?” says Hannibal without looking up.<br/>
“Why?” Will echoes.<br/>
“Why does it matter what my mother told you?”<br/>
Black eyes meet his. Expressionless.<br/>
“She said you’re going back to Lithuania,” says Will, holding that impassive stare before it drops again.<br/>
“Like I said. You’ve got enough to find a place.”<br/>
“I guess I have,” says Will lowly.<br/>
“Good.”<br/>
Lips pursing, Will lowers his fork and slowly sits back in the chair. Resting his hands on the table, he watches the other eat. He knows if he remains silent that Hannibal will continue until he has finished and then leave the table without saying anything else on the matter.<br/>
“I guess you’ve managed to save a pretty amount to take back to your wife and kid,” he begins to say. “Especially with me paying a good part of the rent.”<br/>
“I never asked you to.”<br/>
“No. I was just being polite I guess.”<br/>
Hannibal’s plate is almost empty. As is Will’s patience.<br/>
“I guess your mother could’ve blackmailed me,” he says lightly. “She apparently knows who I am. That I have a partner who is pregnant. If she wanted to, she could threaten to call my company and tell them of our debauchery. But I’m guessing she wouldn’t wish to besmirch her own son’s name even though he’s running back to Lithuania.”<br/>
Hannibal’s plate is empty. He looks ready to stand.<br/>
“But what’s to stop you from doing it?” says Will quickly. Hannibal looks up at him. “When you’ve spent all your money over there. Is that what the videos are for?”<br/>
“Destroy them if you wish.”<br/>
“How do I know you haven’t already saved them somewhere?”<br/>
“You are free to check.”<br/>
Picking up his plate, Hannibal begins to stand.<br/>
“So what,” Will scoffs, folding his arms and keeping his eyes on the table lest the other sees how upset he really is. “I’m just some fuckboy?”<br/>
“And I’m not?”<br/>
Looking up despite himself, Will sees Hannibal walking to the sink and half throwing his cutlery and plate into it.<br/>
“Some foreigner for you to entertain sexual curiosities with until society returns to normal,” he continues to say with his back to him.<br/>
“I thought we were friends,” says Will.<br/>
The words sound childish. And he feels very much like a child just now, sat at the dining table, hoping.<br/>
“We were.”<br/>
At the quiet, almost defeated sound of his voice, Will looks up despite being afraid of his irrational tears being seen, and, picking up his plate and cutlery, strides over to the other’s side and dumps them in the sink.<br/>
“Yeah. Were,” he utters, before turning and walking out of the kitchen.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Baubas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He is sitting on the edge of the bed when the door opens. Looking up, he sees Will stepping in wearing just a towel around his hips. His hair is wet. The ends of his curls dripping water as he stops to stand before him. There is a piece of paper clutched in his hand. Without speaking, the other leans down and pulls open the bedside drawer. Removes an envelope and drops it onto his lap. Reading his own name, Hannibal picks it up, opens it, and pulls out the letter. It is the results of his STI test. He is clear. Feeling eyes on him, he sets the paper down on the table, facing up. Sees Will looking over its contents before putting his own paper down atop his. <em>Clear</em>. They look at one another briefly before Will takes hold of his top. He lets the other help him out of his clothes then stands and faces the wall. As he lowers himself onto his stomach upon the bed, he hears the sound of something being removed from the bedside drawer. The motion of a pump mechanism.</p><p>++++</p><p>This isn’t how he had imagined their first time bare-backing to be. Gone is the almost adolescent excitement of filming a porno together. The weight of adult reality sits in the back of his mind as desire pools into the pit of his stomach at the sight of Hannibal’s consent. Despite everything else that is going on in their lives, this feeling hasn’t changed for him. Knowing the guy will be leaving soon just makes him want him the more. Exhaling quietly, he kneels down behind those long legs and, pushing aside the uncertainty, touches Hannibal.</p><p>++++</p><p>Taking a silent breath from the sensation of Will’s fingertips on his entrance, Hannibal lies still upon the cover, his hands curling slowly into fists as he feels the blunt end of a digit beginning to push into him. Aided by the slick of lubrication, the finger glides with relative ease up his passage, the invasion making him clench instinctively, and behind him, he hears Will inhaling through his nose. The finger moves slowly back and forth, occasionally grazing his prostate and stoking the heat building in his loins. Breathing out, he presses his cheek to the bed and closes his eyes as he feels Will pushing in a second.</p><p>++++</p><p>Withholding the urge to speak and lavish the moment with the old lustful taunts, he sighs at the sight of his own fingers disappearing into Hannibal’s body. His dick twitching beneath the towel from the familiar grip and promise of a pleasure he cannot find with anyone else. Won’t find with anyone else. It comes laced with a new ache that runs deeper than the throb of his veins, its epicentre located further up, hidden out of sight beneath the movement of his diaphragm as his breaths begin to quicken. Burying the doubt as deep as he buries his fingers into the other, Will slowly but firmly forces in a third. Feels his jaw flexing from his refusal to break the silence. Instead, he swallows his groan as he watches that ring of muscle being stretched by his fingers.  </p><p>++++</p><p>Releasing a shaky breath, he presses his brow to the bed as his hands unfurl to dig into the cover on either side of his head. Even whilst willing himself to relax, it remains an uncomfortable sensation being opened up this much. In the past, he always had the distraction of Will’s brazen bravado. Allowed himself to respond with the same unabashed motion as one would when climbing into a friend’s fast car. And he has been thinking about being in the passenger seat as Will drives them far away from all their problems. But for now, this comes the closest to an escape together, just the two of them, and he starts to push back. His body opening itself to Will’s hand. Wishing silently to be taken.</p><p>++++</p><p>As Hannibal begins to move, Will is unable to stop the groan escaping his throat. Barely manages to stifle it by pressing his lips together as his dick strains against the towel. With each soft butt of Hannibal’s body against his knuckles, he feels his building excitement soaking into terrycloth. Exhaling raggedly, he grips the other’s hip with his free hand.</p><p>++++</p><p>He cries out uncontrollably as Will starts to fuck him with his fingers, his voice muffled as he keeps his brow pressed to the cover while his body arches on its own accord. The force of the other’s hand begins to pitch him forward until his own slide up the bed for purchase, his fingers snatching tightly at the sheets. If Will continues to thrust into his rectum like this, he won’t last.</p><p>++++</p><p>He almost gasps when he feels Hannibal catching his wrist. Looks over to see the other leaning up and watching him over his shoulder. His hooded eyes half drawn and his lips agape to his quickening breaths. He doesn’t need to speak to voice what he wants Will to do next. It had been their signal to one another when they had been filming, and though he had dismissed it in the past, there is no ignoring it now. Pulling out his fingers, he tugs the towel from his hips and lets it drop forgotten onto the floor.</p><p>++++</p><p>Will fucks him slowly, intimately, with his arms wrapped around him. He doesn’t speak, and the room is heavy with the weight of their laboured breathing. Unlike the last couple of times they had done this, Hannibal cannot hear the brash sound of their bodies slapping together or Will’s growls threatening to escape past gritted teeth. He can sense the restraint and suspects it stems not only from the other’s fear of coming prematurely. A hand slips onto his dick and starts carefully to move. The attentiveness feels strange, reminding him of the first time he made love with his wife. He feels the thrusts slowing down as the grip on his arousal speeds up. Understands Will is trying to hold back until he is also ready. Catching that moving wrist, he closes his eyes as he pushes back hurriedly and hears the suppressed grunt slipping out to stroke the back of his ear. Reading his gesture, Will snaps his hips against him.</p><p>“Yes,” Hannibal pants softly as he squeezes encouragingly on his wrist.</p><p>In response, Will holds him tighter against himself as he pulls out slow then plunges back in sharply.</p><p>“Yes!” he gasps again, arching desperately from the pleasure bursting under contact with his prostate. His cock leaking helplessly as Will strokes him even faster. “Prašau… Will…”</p><p>++++</p><p>He hears his name and, hips smacking once more into Hannibal, feels the sudden thickening of the dick in his hand just as his own buries itself to the hilt inside the other’s tensing body. Hannibal cries out and, unable to hold back any longer, Will shouts hoarsely as he comes, voice loud and low as he convulses. Each twitch forcing further moans and whimpers from his lips until all he can do is cling onto the other’s waist with his arms and press his face into his shoulder. As the pleasure subsides, however, and he feels himself hurtling, Will lifts his head to see water smearing Hannibal’s skin. Letting go, he swipes at his eyes and climbs hurriedly off the bed before snatching up his towel.</p><p>++++</p><p>He hears the door being pushed open and runs his hand down his face, swallowing the build-up of phlegm. Lying on his side, facing the wall, he cannot see the other, but can hear the quiet pad of his feet as he nears. Feel the mattress dipping as a weight settles beside him. In the limited space, they must lie in the dark with their backs touching. Sniffing, Will lets the contact soothe the pathetic child inside.</p><p>“So when are you going,” he asks, voice thick from crying.</p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>Will watches the wall, blinking slowly.</p><p>“What do you mean…?”</p><p>“My wife doesn’t love me,” explains Hannibal quietly. “I’m too ashamed to see my daughter. It’s better this way.”</p><p>For a moment, Will doesn’t say anything. Just lies there staring at the wall through his lashes and trying to imagine what Hannibal’s wife and daughter looks like. Thinks about Margot and the baby, and heaves a sigh.</p><p>“What are you hiding here anyway? Bodies?” he mutters in jest.</p><p>Silence. Swallowing, Will licks his lips.</p><p>“If you’re not going back,” he begins to say tentatively, “we could find somewhere with better security. I mean, sure, it’ll be more expensive, but we can go halfers, if you want. I could get rid of the car-”</p><p>“I still haven’t seen it.”</p><p>At the hushed response, Will slowly turns over to lie on his back. Watching up, he swallows again.</p><p>“You know, I don’t think of you as a fuckboy,” he utters, eyes roaming the ceiling restlessly as he waits.</p><p>“There’s something you should know.”</p><p>“What,” Will scoffs softly, trying to lessen some of the weight on his chest. “You have two more wives and seven children?”</p><p>When Hannibal says nothing, he tears his eyes from the ceiling to watch the back of the other’s head.</p><p>“…what is it?” he asks hesitantly.</p><p>He hears the other taking a breath. Followed by another stretch of silence.</p><p>“There is a lot of money here,” Hannibal begins to explain, his voice so quiet, Will knits his brows as he strains to hear him. “Hidden.”</p><p>“Okay…”</p><p>“I did bad things to get it.”</p><p>Leaning on his side, Will continues to stare at the back of Hannibal’s head.</p><p>“Like that?”</p><p>“When I was in Lithuania, I did jobs for people. I was going to stop when I got here. Start again. But they found me anyway.”</p><p>“What happened?”</p><p>“They won’t find me now.”</p><p>A pause as Hannibal stops talking and Will tries to read between the lines.</p><p>“The people who broke in have nothing to do with it,” he continues to say. “That was just the company failing to protect the personal information of its employees. I won’t be working for them anymore.”</p><p>“When you say you did jobs…”</p><p>“Whether you stay or leave,” says Hannibal in a half whisper, “know that it would never be my intention to hurt you, Will.” A pause as he swallows audibly. “But I understand if you change your mind.”</p><p>++++</p><p>For a while, there is silence in the room as the weight of his confession settles in the air between them. He has never told anybody about the money or how he got it. Before the pandemic, he used to give some of it to his mother to take back to Sofija. He knew she never did believe his lie about finding a well-paying job with a good company. But neither did she know about the true nature of his work even when he was still in Lithuania. He had always been so careful not to let any of his contacts know about his family. Had always managed to keep his interests separate by paying for protection. And they had kept their promise, even after the incident. Nobody would link his face, should they stumble accidentally on his other work, with the <em>baubas</em> hired to do the bidding of influential men. Enough time ought to have passed for him to be just another lonely migrant.</p><p>“I always knew you were a Russian mobster.”</p><p>At the hushed sound of his voice, Hannibal rolls slowly onto his back.</p><p>“Not anymore,” he says quietly, eyes on the ceiling.</p><p>“Until you get in the car,” Will murmurs.</p><p>“Behind the wheel?” says Hannibal.</p><p>“Hell no. You’re in the passenger seat. Looking pretty.”</p><p>“You mean scary.”</p><p>“Pretty scary.”</p><p>Turning his face towards the sound of Will’s voice, he looks for him in the dark.</p><p>“You don’t sound scared,” he says quietly, and feels a hand clasping his upper arm to pull him gently onto his side.</p><p>“Not anymore,” Will murmurs, lying close enough for him to feel his breath stroking warmly against his cheek. “Assuming you’re not going to just disappear one day…”</p><p>“I might do,” says Hannibal. “If I like your car.”</p><p>“Don’t joke. I had a car stolen once by some foreigners.”</p><p>“Maybe you should stop befriending them.”</p><p>Will falls quiet. Hannibal can feel his hand on his bicep, still.</p><p>“Are we friends?” he asks.</p><p>“What are you, five?” Will scoffs.</p><p>“You’re the one who said-”</p><p>“Yeah, we’re friends.”</p><p>“I’m glad.”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>Pause.</p><p>“Hey Han.”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Can we sleep in your bed? This one’s too small for the both of us.”</p><p>“Maybe if I ride you.”</p><p>“…we can try that.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. 911</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Cop and mobster roleplay intended to be read to 'On Trigger' by Serhat Durmus: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmKfijcXbq8</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Will finds someone to launder Hannibal’s dirty money and within one month, they have moved into a new place back in Will’s old neighbourhood. The rent is expensive, but Hannibal is able to contribute by continuing his camming on top of working for Amazon as a delivery driver. The now legitimate portion of his money is also at his disposal, though the other lives as frugally as he had done before, and continues to save for a rainy day like it’s the done thing. Will assumes it’s for the man’s wife and daughter in his home country. He doesn’t ask. He also has to set money aside for Margot, now past her twentieth week.</p><p>The first two weeks had been taken up by meetings with the financial advisor, a couple of apartment viewings, further meetings to conclude financial arrangements, then packing up and moving out. So far, they have spent a fortnight together in the new apartment. Initially, they were settling in, setting up the new camming gear, getting into a routine with work. The new company Hannibal cams for was one recommended to him by an old colleague friend. Using the hook of ‘Russian Daddies’, it caters to both men and women, yet seems particularly popular with the gay population in Eastern Europe. Will is jealous, of course, but pretends it doesn’t bother him. Tells himself a friend wouldn’t hold another friend back from making his bread. <em>Right?</em> Although it doesn’t help that, despite having access to his car again, he hasn’t actually had the chance to take Hannibal out for a drive yet. <em>Soon</em>, he tells himself, and treats it as something to look forward to instead.  </p><p>In fact, Will rather looks forward to the mornings since they moved in. The whole getting ready thing – working out then eating breakfast together and getting dressed. They set out separately in their own vehicles, but thoughts of the guy remain with him the entire day. Whenever he has a spare moment at work, he’s thinking of the other. Wondering what he’s doing. <em>Delivering parcels, most likely</em>. Considering nipping out to find him during his lunch break. Sometimes he gets so worked up, he ends up masturbating in the men’s bathroom, but only when it’s become physically unbearable.</p><p>Maybe it’s because things are still tense with his family, but Hannibal seems keen to establish routines. Moving in together hasn’t been a particularly romantic event. More practical than anything. And yet Will still feels giddy beneath his cool façade. Even if they haven’t had nearly as much sex as he’d envisaged them having once they had started sharing a bed like real couples do. Their evenings are often occupied, with Will being the first to return to the apartment and make dinner. Hannibal usually manages to come back in time to join him and spend some time winding down together before getting ready to cam. It’s not entirely dissimilar, then, to how they used to operate, except Will knows he’s not supposed to press for anything before Hannibal shuts himself away in the guest room.</p><p>Whilst he’s busy, Will normally takes himself to bed and is usually asleep by the time Hannibal finishes. It took some will power at first, he must admit, forcing himself not to jerk off while waiting, but after that one time of falling asleep with a raging hardon and waking up to some truly mind-blowing morning sex, Will has since saved himself every night just so he can enjoy, from the moment he wakes, deliciously slow and languid sex with Hannibal – if the man is <em>really</em> tired – or the hard and fast sort required to exorcise the demon having taken hold after a particularly erotic dream. Whichever one, Will is always slow to peel himself off the other afterwards. When asked why he’s behaving like a teenager, he denies it even though he knows it’s true. <em>You know why</em>. And tends to throw himself into his push ups afterwards to avoid stating peevishly that were he really a teenager, he’d be demanding to know why he doesn’t get calls or text messages.</p><p>Even though they’re not a <em>thing</em>. But you don’t have to be a <em>thing</em> to send an indecent selfie. Or a <em>hey, how’s it going</em> after a reminder to pick up more milk. Or, if the guy doesn’t want to start a conversation, a simple <em>thinking of you</em>, or <em>see you tonight wink emoji</em> would make him feel just a fraction less silly and paranoid that, maybe, for the first time in his life, he actually likes someone more than they like him. <em>Dangerous territory</em>. He would be loath to allow it for a woman let alone some ex-mobster immigrant from Lithuania. One who happens to be accumulating an even bigger fanbase than before, and fast.</p><p>One evening, eating at the dining table, Will’s jealousy flexes its muscles at the memory of him pressing his ear to the door of the guest room the night before and hearing Hannibal call someone else the d word. The word <em>sabotage</em> had immediately come to mind, but he knew he was being unwarrantedly possessive, and ended up placating himself by watching the videos they’d filmed together. Wondering, as he beat himself off to shots of Hannibal’s lowered lashes and parted lips, if things have settled enough for them to resume shooting. Bring back some of that fire he likes to think only he can spark in the guy.<br/>
<br/>
“So I was thinking,” he begins to say, looking up from his plate to meet that impassive expression. “Things are going well.” Putting down his fork, he pushes his plate out the way enough to fold his arms upon the table before leaning forward. “We could make more videos if you’re up for it?” he finishes saying with a lofting of his brows. A twitchy smile on his lips as he unfolds his arms to slide a hand along the table. Reach out with a finger to touch the other’s knuckle. Holding his gaze, Hannibal lifts his glass of water. Takes a sip before answering.<br/>
“What did you have in mind?” he says, and Will’s smile deepens as he brings his hand back to pull his cell phone from his trouser pocket. Unlocking it, he pulls up the photo. Turns and holds the phone out towards the other. Hooded eyes look down at the screen. Look up again with a faint grimace.<br/>
“Really?” says Hannibal. Instead of answering, Will’s smile grows lopsided as he puts the phone down and picks up his fork.<br/>
“Do you think you can get the day off?” he asks, amused by the sight of those dark eyes remaining on the now black screen on the phone. <em>Admit it</em>.<br/>
“I’ll ask.”<br/>
<em>You want it as much as I do.<br/>
</em>“Great.”</p><p>++++</p><p>
  <em>Devil in a red dress</em><br/>
<em>Call 911</em><br/>
<em>I'm a killer</em>
</p><p>Looking in the vanity mirror, he leaves the cigarette dangling from his lips before running his hand through his hair. While sweeping his light tresses to the side, he sees a movement in his peripheral vision and turns his face to look out the tinted windows at an approaching uniform. Cursing quietly around the joint, he makes no attempt to conceal it as he presses the button for the window. As the glass lowers, it reveals a pair of hands moving to the officer’s hips.<br/>
“What are you doing out during lockdown?” the voice asks sternly, and Hannibal glances at his own reflection in the vanity mirror.<br/>
“Exercise,” he mutters, when a hand reaches in to snatch the cigarette from his lips. Cursing in Russian, he makes to grab it back, but is too slow. He hears a deep inhale and scoffs unbelievingly while running his hand back through his hair. Calls the officer something derogatory under his breath as a flurry of smoke is blown back in through the window.<br/>
“I saw,” sneers the man. “Get out the car.”<br/>
“Why,” Hannibal asks.<br/>
“Because I said so.”</p><p><em>You know I hate to confess</em><br/>
<em>Bang bang </em><br/>
<em>Got my hand on the trigger<br/>
</em><br/>
++++</p><p>
  <em>Devil in a red dress</em><br/>
<em>Call 911</em><br/>
<em>I'm a killer</em>
</p><p>As the driver’s door opens, he waits for Hannibal to climb out and step aside before slamming it shut for him. Gives him a quick onceover as the man fusses with his hair, pushing blonde spikes from hooded eyes that regard him with cool contempt. <em>I know it’s for the camera, but god do you make me want to break from script and bend you over the bonnet here and now</em>. Dragging his eyes from that black shirt worn tight and open at the collar, he looks past the tall wild grass towards the nearby woods.<br/>
“Start walking,” he instructs, and Hannibal leans back against the car, arms folding.<br/>
“No,” he says simply.<br/>
“Do I have to report this stolen vehicle?”<br/>
Black eyes hold his gaze, and they engage in a brief staring contest before the man gives in and pushes off the car with a loud exhale. As he starts to walk into the grass, Will makes sure to give the camera a good clear view of Hannibal’s behind. It’s the first time he has seen it clad in something other than joggers, and the sight of the suit fabric pulling taut over that ass is enough to make his uniform grow maddeningly tight.</p><p>
  <em>You know I hate to confess</em><br/>
<em>Bang bang </em><br/>
<em>Got my hand on the trigger</em>
</p><p>Upon entering the woods, Hannibal breaks the silence to ask,<br/>
“What is this?”<br/>
And before he can look over his shoulder, Will plants a hand to his back and shoves him forward.<br/>
“Keep going.”<br/>
Regaining his footing, Hannibal continues to walk on until Will finds them nearing a sturdy, thick-bodied tree, and suddenly pushes the man into it with some force.<br/>
“Vot eto pizdets-” the other begins to grunt against the bark, and Will grabs those wrists before wrenching them back and pinning them above that delectable rear. <br/>
“I should fine you for engaging with prostitutes during lockdown,” he says.<br/>
“So do her for soliciting,” says Hannibal.<br/>
“It’s not her I want to do,” Will murmurs, helping himself to a handful of that ass. As he begins to knead the dense globe, that sharp profile looks back at him.<br/>
“Consider your fine paid,” he purrs lowly, meeting that dark stare. “And I’ll let you keep the car…”<br/>
Hooded eyes continue to watch him from the corners a moment longer before Hannibal faces the tree. His hands slipping out of Will’s grip to work open his belt.</p><p>
  <em>Bang bang</em>
</p><p>++++</p><p>
  <em>I am the party</em>
</p><p>He can hear Will’s breathing – heavy and slow – as he stands close behind him, tugging out his shirt ends and shoving them up his back, out of the way. As soon as the clasp is freed on his belt, he feels his trousers being yanked down along with his underwear, baring his ass to the dank woodland air. <br/>
“Keep your hands on the tree,” the man commands, and Hannibal complies, holding on to either side of the trunk as hands grab his cheeks.<br/>
“What do we have here…” slips the lewd murmur from Will’s lips. He had prepared beforehand, but grunts his discomfort nonetheless as a middle finger is forced into him to the last knuckle. Its tip grazing him just so and making him arch his back and press his brow to the cracked bark.<br/>
“You took that easy enough,” chuckles Will lowly. “Must be all the contraband you’re used to cramming up there…”<br/>
The underlying excitement of his words is mirrored by the sudden addition of another digit followed by a hard scissoring motion all in the same breath.   <br/>
“Mnph…”<br/>
“Struggling already? I think you can take another.”<br/>
“Stop…”<br/>
“Too late...”<br/>
Feeling his ring being stretched open and spat on, Hannibal licks his lips in anticipation of what’s to come. Imagines the earthy woodland air invading his body only to be expelled by the other’s pulsating girth until, still trapped in the garments bunched at his thighs, his arousal begins to throb uncomfortably.</p><p>++++</p><p>
  <em>I am the drug</em>
</p><p>It’s not possible to capture on video the secretive way Hannibal communicates consent and encouragement. The way his body crushes his fingers like a slick fist. And Will is glad it can never be known by viewers. Not the way he does. Driven by this hankering for ownership, he skips their planned preamble to push those slipping shirt ends back out of the way before, snatching the man brusquely by his waist, proceeds to force his barely freed cock into the other’s ass.</p><p>++++</p><p>As Will begins to fuck him in earnest against the tree, the harsh sound of their bodies slapping together jars with the relative silence of their surroundings. The animalistic noises leaving their lips, however, could easily be mistaken for that of beasts rutting in some hidden corner of the woodland. Panting hard, Hannibal watches over his shoulder at the camera with lowered lashes that flutter upon impact. Meets molten blue beneath a devilish curl that begins to shudder as the man doubles his efforts. The fat head of his penis jabbing him in that place that makes his legs weak like a woman’s and gets him wondering how it has come to this – filming porn in the outdoors of a foreign country. Inevitably, he thinks of his wife and the early days of their courtship. Of the clumsy but passionate love they made on the woodland floor. At least, that’s what he thought it was at the time.    </p><p>++++</p><p>Sensing Hannibal is becoming distracted, Will is tempted to break from the roleplay, but knows it’s too good a take to redo. Plus, he’s close.<br/>
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he hisses, drawing those dark eyes back to him before he suddenly stiffens mid-thrust.</p><p>++++</p><p>The face Will Graham makes when he orgasms has become increasingly familiar to Hannibal. Since moving in together, it’s practically what he sees every morning. And yet he doesn’t think he will tire of it. As much as he’s always the one to get up first, he appreciates the honesty of a heart worn on the sleeve – one the man tugs down when he grows defensive. But the other is an attentive lover in his own way. Refusing to stop until Hannibal has also found release. Just not in this scenario.</p><p>++++  </p><p>As soon as the hard pulsations have tailed off, he pulls out of Hannibal with a heavy exhale, and just before the string of semen severs, he grabs and spreads those flushed cheeks, giving the camera a clear shot of the other’s hole drooling uncontrollably. The sight of it satisfying that part of him that wants to wrap his arms around the man’s middle and nose at his jaw while murmuring stupid things like, <em>our first time barebacking on video</em>. <em>You did so well</em>. <em>I almost don’t want to share it</em>… Instead, he whips Hannibal’s ass and sneers a “Stay safe” while putting himself away.  </p><p>++++</p><p>After turning off the GoPro, he had wanted to make Hannibal come. Had suggested they did it on the floor, with the other riding him if he didn’t want to get his nice shirt dirty. <em>You can shoot all over this cop uniform if you want</em>, he’d murmured. <em>A big fuck you to the Lithuanian authorities</em>, he’d joked. When Hannibal started walking back towards the car, he’d pushed off the tree he was leaning flirtatiously against and almost offered to suck the guy off. Even had another derogatory police slur ready on the tip of his tongue to counter the overt homoeroticism. But the man hadn’t even paused. And Will was secretly glad as he waded through the tall grass because he wasn’t really desperate enough to want cock in his mouth. By the time they reached the car, he was embarrassed the thought had ever crossed his mind. <em>Why are you acting like a teenager?</em>   </p><p>++++</p><p>It starts to rain as Will drives them the long way back to the city. He is glad when Hannibal has finished rolling the joint. He wants something to take off the edge. For a while, they pass the cigarette between them without saying anything. Eventually he relaxes enough to sit back and slip a hand onto Hannibal’s thigh. After a beat, the hand that covers his own is warm and comforting. The unexpected touch making him turn his around instinctively and thread together their fingers. A gesture he can always blame the weed for inspiring. Settling further against the seat, he lets out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding.<br/>
“When this lockdown ends, I plan on viewing some homes out here,” Hannibal begins to say.<br/>
“Yeah?” Will murmurs. “You like the countryside?”<br/>
“It’s where I grew up as a kid.”<br/>
“You were a farm boy?” Will chuckles, eyes lidding at the dappled windscreen.<br/>
“Kind of.”<br/>
“You gonna grow your own vegetables? Keep a bunch of chickens?”<br/>
“Maybe.”<br/>
“Sounds nice,” says Will quietly.<br/>
“You can come with me if you like.”<br/>
Pause.<br/>
“To the viewings.”<br/>
Will draws deeply on the cigarette to avoid doing something stupid like kissing the back of the other’s hand. Yet, holding his breath, he feels himself beginning to soar.<br/>
“Sure,” he exhales with a smile at the road.</p><p>++++</p><p>“You want it?”<br/>
“Yes.”<br/>
“You want daddy’s cock?”<br/>
“Yes.”<br/>
“Show me.”<br/>
Just like before, they fill the air with the sounds of sex, only their feverish gasps and lustful groans are accentuated now by the cramped space inside the sports car. With the driver’s seat reclined as far as it’ll go, Will sits with Hannibal in his lap. Chest to the other’s back. His hands gripping the man’s hips as they move. Pulling him back down each time he drags himself up Will’s throbbing shaft.<br/>
“Whose dick are you riding?” he continues to grit tauntingly through his teeth.<br/>
“Yours,” Hannibal continues to pant.<br/>
“Whose.”<br/>
“Daddy’s.”<br/>
“Am I the best daddy?”<br/>
“Yes…”<br/>
“Prove it.”<br/>
Heavy breathing combines with the sound of creaking leather.<br/>
“Beg,” Will continues to growl, his fingers digging with bruising force into those hips. “Beg your daddy like the good boy you are…”<br/>
“Fuck me,” pleads Hannibal breathlessly.<br/>
“That’s it-”<br/>
“Fuck me, daddy-”<br/>
“Yes-”<br/>
“I want you-”<br/>
“Yeah?”<br/>
“Make it feel good-”<br/>
“Uh-huh-”<br/>
“Prašau,” the man breathes, and Will tightens his grip on Hannibal’s hips before pulling him up his length. Stopping with his head still inside his rectum, he maintains a vice like grip as he starts drilling up into the other. A breathy cry of surprise escapes into the air, followed by a series of helpless noises, low and guttural as Will slams home. Pummelling that sweet spot of his until he can feel his own balls growing wet with the slick and previous come being forced back out of Hannibal’s hole. In his peripheral vision, he can see the man’s hands scrabbling for purchase upon the car interior.<br/>
“I’m going to come,” Hannibal pants, voice and body juddering from the force of Will’s unrelenting thrusts.<br/>
“Yeah?” he grunts, maintaining his pace as he reaches round with a hand, fingers sliding over the taut material of the other’s shirt to pinch and twist the hard peak of a nipple.</p><p>++++</p><p>After coming, he feels Will doing the same inside him, and hopes there is something to clean up with in the glovebox. As he starts to move, he feels arms winding around his waist, pulling him against the other’s chest. Lets the soft press of lips to his jaw ease him into sitting back with a quiet exhale.   <br/>
“So you’ve never been in trouble with the authorities back home?” Will murmurs, still a little breathless. His words brushing warm against his cheek as he watches through the rivulets running down the windscreen and distorting the view of an obscure location.<br/>
“No,” he answers, eyes falling to a half close.<br/>
“Not even a pat down?”<br/>
At the playful sound of his voice, Hannibal glances into the vanity mirror to meet lidded blue. <em>Such passion</em>…<br/>
“Maybe,” he answers.<br/>
“Yeah?”<br/>
<em>I want you to look at me this way always.<br/>
</em>“Had to face the car and bend over.”<br/>
“The bastard,” Will grumbles, his hands moving up to press possessively against his chest.<br/>
“She was very bossy,” says Hannibal, lofting his brows at their reflected gazes.<br/>
“Oh.”<br/>
Those blue eyes blink with realisation.<br/>
“So did you guys…”<br/>
“Maybe,” he murmurs, glancing aside.<br/>
“Naughty,” Will chuckles lowly, his arms winding over his chest now as a nose presses into his neck. “Do you miss it?”<br/>
“Lithuania?”<br/>
“Pussy.”<br/>
“Ah.”<br/>
“Did you ever… while being pegged?” the man continues to ask, voice dropping another octave.<br/>
“…I did.”<br/>
“Haven’t seen that one…”<br/>
“It wasn’t filmed.”<br/>
“Well, if you want, I know someone I could ask…”<br/>
“To make a video?”<br/>
“To make you feel good.”<br/>
A pause as he wonders whether or not to address the insecurity. Recalls Will growing defensive on past occasions.<br/>
“Just tell me what you want,” says the other quietly, and Hannibal puts his hands on the arms keeping him pressed close.<br/>
“I want a shower,” he says simply before turning his face and tilting his head back for a kiss.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translation</p><p>“Vot eto pizdets” – This is fucked up<br/>“Prašau” - Please</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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